Newfound Clarity
by BregoBeauty
Summary: Jackson and Lisa take two separate paths-only to wind up in the same spot. But can time heal all wounds? Eventual JxL.
1. Prologue: Bullet Holes

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Summary:** Starting with the aftermath of the flight, both Jackson and Lisa turn their lives around, just missing each other. They don't know it yet, but their destinies revolve around each other.

**Prologue**

"_There's bullet holes where my compassion used to be…" ~ __**My Violent Heart**__ by Nine Inch Nails_

The sirens grew louder.

Jackson Rippner tried to take a deep breath, but his chest refused to cooperate. The wild shot from Lisa's father had clipped his chest, just missing his heart. But even his rib cage couldn't protect his lungs.

She stood just a few feet from him, close enough to kick if he had the strength to use his legs. But Lisa'd seen to that when she drove a heeled shoe into his thigh.

At least she hadn't flattened him with the fucking car like she did his associate. No, Little Miss Doormat finally got up the courage to fight back. Years of suppressed aggression boiled over and Jackson ended up caught inside the shit storm of the century.

This was supposed to be an easy job. She was the perfect mark on paper. Even more boring in person. No friends or life. Just a demanding job and a father. Her mother lived across the country, estranged from her only child. No one seemed to understand the enigma that was Lisa Henrietta Reisert.

Instead of caving to his demands like a sensible bitch, Lisa grew a back bone. She rebelled in simple ways before stabbing a novelty pen into his trachea. Pretending she spoke to her colleague, writing 'help' messages inside a book and on a lavatory's mirror, and being uncooperative.

Still, he admired her. She'd fought him tooth and nail, coming down to his level by the end of their battle of wills. She bested him.

Sure, Jackson got a few hits in. The damage he inflicted was less than a rug burn compared to what she put him through. Vases, heels, a flying fire extinguisher, and a damn hockey stick were just the beginning of her resourceful weapons.

Glass shards crunched underneath booted feet. Help had arrived.

A grim smile crossed his face as her green eyes met his. Sorrow filled her face. She didn't want it to end like this anymore than he did.

"Hang on, okay? Hang on, Jack…" hissed a familiar voice as Jackson faded, the pain overwhelming him.

**Author's Notes:**

Here's my next long JxL fic! I don't know how long it will take to finish writing. I've got a basic plot outline sketched out at the moment, but be prepared for some waiting time between the chapters. It won't be nearly as bad as my two current fics—_Guilty As Charged_ and _Total Strangers_.

I'm hoping to make this a believable relationship, so there will be a lot of time jumps and it'll be several chapters before Jackson and Lisa begin to get together. So buckle up and settle in. It's gonna be a long ride.


	2. Chapter One: Chasing Shadows

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter One**

"_It feels like chasing shadows in the night…" ~ __**Thrown Away**__ by VAST_

Standing in the rubble of the fortieth floor, Lisa Reisert knew it was time to change jobs—maybe even careers.

Her semi-hysterical desk clerk, Cynthia, kept babbling in her ear. Cynthia might be the reason the Keefe family survived the missile aimed at their hotel room, but the poor girl wouldn't stop her frightened speech.

"And then… there was this loud noise and dust—ohmygod dust everywhere! I seriously thought I was gonna die—"

"Cynthia, it's over now, okay?" Lisa snapped. "I get that it was hard, but it's over. You're fine. Stop talking about it already!"

The redhead took a step back, her brown eyes unnaturally wide. "Lisa?"

"Don't! I don't want to hear it, okay?"

She stepped over a metal support beam, stalking back toward the back stairs. The elevators were temporarily out of order until the structural damage was assessed. Her track jacket didn't keep goose bumps from appearing on her arms.

The destroyed hotel room, with the bits of plaster, drop ceilings, metal beams, and ruined furniture, was meant to be a tomb. Charles Keefe, his wife, their two kids, and the members of their protective detail were supposed to be lying there dead on the floor her sore feet traversed.

All because a blue-eyed demon gave someone a shoulder-launcher smuggled in the country and told them to fire at her hotel. Because someone paid good money to assassinate the Deputy Director of Homeland Security.

Innocent lives taken because of a political agenda.

Rippner never counted on her lifting a finger to help them. He expected her to cower at the threat of her father's life. But she couldn't. She'd already let her rapist rip her life apart. She wasn't going to let a stranger destroy lives without a fight.

Her shoes echoed in the cement stairwell.

In front of her, clear as crystal, she watched Jackson Rippner fall down the stairs, her shoe stuck in his thigh. He tumbled, momentum carrying him to the landing. He glanced up at her, eyes looking right through her, and ripped the shoe free.

Lisa shook her head. It wasn't possible. An ambulance took his broken body away.

Her knuckles turned white, her fists clenched around the railing. It was all that held her up.

Taking a deep breath, she took a tentative step forward, shaking Jackson Rippner from her mind.

Her heel caught the end of the step, tossing her off-balance. With a scream, she barreled down the stairs, falling over and over again until her bruised body slammed into the wall on the next landing, a good half-a-story later.

Lisa took a moment to catch her breath and calm her racing heart.

A hand dangled in front of her face. "Miss Reisert?"

"Yes?"

"My name's Marc Pearson. I'm with the FBI. Can I ask you a few questions about today's… incident?"

She took the proffered hand and slowly rose. "I guess. What do… you want to know?"

"The man who kidnapped you. What was his name?"

"Um, can I see some ID first? Just to, you know…"

"Of course." Special Agent Pearson smiled at her, reaching inside his suit to withdraw his badge. He handed it to her without hesitation.

The shield was carefully polished, the badge heavy in her hand. The identification part of the badge showed a clear photograph of him and his name printed. The case was worn, as if he'd carried it for years, not just run it off a printer.

Lisa handed it back. "He called himself Jackson Rippner."

After that, the words fell from her lips, her story spilling out to a stranger.

* * *

Jackson expected to be surrounded by machines and harsh hospital lighting. Instead, the room had a cozy feel and the main machine was an IV in his arm.

He groaned, his throat still on fire from the pen.

"Take it easy," urged a man.

His hand reached for a weapon, anything really, in case this man was a foe.

"Jackson, don't. Don't."

Frowning, Jackson tried to sit up and see who stood at the foot of the bed.

"It's just me… Jim. Relax before you pull some stitches."

Jim. Jim Carter. A friend. An old, old friend.

His weak body relaxed, tension sliding from his muscles.

"Don't try to speak, okay? Your throat will heal, but it's better if you rest it. I'm sure you want to know what's going on, so blink twice for yes, once for no. Got it?"

Jackson blinked once, twice, in answer.

"Okay, you're in a safe place right now. My people are covering your disappearance and death, right now. As far was the United States government is concerned, the terrorist known as Jackson Rippner died of injuries sustained during an assassination attempt," Jim explained, his voice calm and steady. "Your employers think you died as well."

A small relief there. He wouldn't be hunted down like a dog and shot in the back.

"In time, you should heal. Until then, my family and I will take care of you. There's also a place for you at the company… should you want it. And no, you don't owe me anything."

Jackson raised an eyebrow.

"Don't start. Now rest up. The doctor will check on you soon. And don't even think about poking your wounds this time. I'm not stitching you up again."

The ghost of a smile crossed his face. Some things never changed.

* * *

Close to a week passed before Lisa was allowed to return home against the advice of various agents who interrogated her. A few wanted to use her as bait against the men behind the hit, while others seemed convinced she was a target. A bargain was struck—she could go home, but police cars would patrol the area.

She didn't care by then. It was a small sacrifice just to get home.

Lisa fell into her bathtub, her stiff muscles relaxing in the hot water. She could feel the insatiable need to scrub her body clean, as if it could erase the traces of Jackson Rippner from her soul.

Her little poof became a weapon, the light blue object rubbing her pink skin raw. Scrub, scrub, scrub.

The water turned cold, causing her legs to tremble.

She stood up, grabbed her towel, and tip-toed down the hallway to her bedroom as the tub drained. Her tiny two-bedroom apartment was quiet, the old wood floors creaking under her footsteps.

Each sound tensed her muscles, her senses stuck in overdrive. Her mind said there was no one in the apartment, but her nerves seized the opportunity for panic. Her chest tightened, her throat dry and unwilling to swallow.

She stumbled to her bed, collapsing on the comforter as the attack hit. Gasping, wheezing, dying.

Her body arched; her lungs gasping for air.

There wasn't any to be found.

**Author's Notes:**

There will be some back-and-forth between POVs since it's a while before they meet up again. Lisa is beginning to feel the effects of the flight. She had PTSD after her rape, but it went away. Now, she's suffering from it again, coupled with panic attacks. That's what hits her a couple times in this chapter.

It's funny what tricks the mind can play on the body. You can know there's no reason to be afraid, but your brain can send a fight or flight signal to your body, pushing you into panic. Living with a panic disorder is hard. You'll see why as Lisa struggles with it.

Anyways, please, please review! Any comment from "I love it! Right more soon!" to "You spelled this wrong" or "Jackson would never—" is welcome!


	3. Chapter Two: Hurt Like You

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Two**

"_You want someone to hurt like you…" ~ __**Points of Authority**__ by Linkin Park _

The orange pill bottle stared at Jackson. Pain pills, filled in the name of a fictitious person, just within reach. He could take them if he wanted. He _should_ take them.

He wasn't invincible. He wasn't infallible. He wasn't superhuman anymore.

He never had been.

* * *

Feeling disappeared in the tips of her fingers, her lips, her nose, and part of her face.

No air.

Lisa Reisert forced her eyes closed, willing her body to relax. To breathe. Anything but this.

Gasping, gagging, choking.

It was too late for her to swallow a pill. Even water would be rejected by her closed throat. Not to mention she couldn't move. The attack pinned her to the bed.

As sudden as it came over her, it left her. Exhausted, taking deep hurried breaths.

Her hands felt for the pill bottle on her nightstand. It snagged the orange plastic, popping the lid off with practiced ease. She waited for her breathing to even out before swallowing the pill with a swig of the water bottle she kept beside her bed.

It'd been a while since she relied on pills.

She swayed on her feet, still unsteady from her breathing attack. An old nightshirt paired with a loose pair of sweats became her pajamas.

Lisa curled up under the thick covers, falling asleep within moments, her body giving in to exhaustion as the medication began to start to take effect.

* * *

His throat healed slowly. Within a few weeks, he could talk for short amounts of time.

Carter hadn't been lying when he said Jackson was welcome. Carter's wife and daughters spent time with him, visiting and checking on his condition. The oldest daughter even brought him newspapers to keep him informed of current events, mainly the Miami situation.

At the end of the first month, the young woman who'd become his companion flew home to Maryland and her husband.

Jackson didn't mind. He preferred to be alone.

The bullet wounds pained him each time he took a breath. He caved and took the pills, part of him wishing he'd snapped Lisa Reisert's neck when he'd had the chance, before she could ruin his body.

He was walking around long before the rest of his battered body healed. He limped, thanks to the heeled shoe inserted into his thigh. Just the same, he was grateful for mobility.

The issue of creating a new identity still weighed on him. He couldn't be Jackson Rippner again in public. His latest employer most likely had a price on his head just in case the reports of his death were false. He didn't know what he wanted to do with his life. Thanks to his injuries, it would be hard to be a manager again. There wasn't anything menacing about a man with a raspy, wheeze for a voice who limped.

Lisa ruined his career.

"Ready for your new life?" Jim Carter asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Jackson pressed his fingers against the wound in his neck to help himself speak. "As ready as I'll get."

* * *

Lisa crossed her legs, trying not to let her nerves show. It had been a few months since she saw a therapist.

One of the office's many doors opened and her therapist, a caring woman in her late 30s with short-cropped blonde hair, appeared with a smile.

"It's nice to see you again, Lisa."

"Thanks for seeing me."

"Not a problem." Her therapist smiled as she sat down in her chair, leaving Lisa to take the couch. "How is your anxiety?"

"Bad."

"What happened?"

"Plane. I took a plane flight home…"

"Oh, dear. I forgot you were afraid of planes," Jane said, sympathy filling her voice.

"It wasn't just the plane. My… my seatmate…"

Her hands shook.

"Lisa, breathe. It's okay. You're not on the plane anymore. You're safe."

"Did you hear about the explosion at the Lux?"

"That's the hotel… the one where you work, correct? Were you there?"

"He caused that. My seatmate blew up my hotel."

Her therapist frowned, then nodded encouragingly.

"His name is—was Jackson Rippner. He threatened my father's life. He forced me to be a pawn in this game of his. He left me no choice…"

"What did he do?"

"He seemed so nice and normal at first. I could've… I might've dated him."

"That's a good thing, Lisa. I know the rape still hurts, but not every man out there is going to hurt you," Jane said.

"But Jackson did. He played with my feelings, backed me into a corner—then he…"

Jane handed Lisa the box of tissues. "It's okay, let it out."

"I thought… I thought he was gonna…" She closed her eyes for a moment. "Rape me. But then, he saw the scar, and he… he stopped. He… softened. Almost like he felt bad."

"Maybe he was."

"What?"

"There's a chance that he really did feel bad. Did you consider that maybe he was just as attracted to you as you were to him?"

"What? That's—no. No way."

Lisa's feet twitched, not staying still anymore.

"Lisa, I think you should make an appointment with Dr. Greenwell. Maybe it's time to put you back on Zoloft again."

"I don't want medication—"

"I want you to see me again in a few days. We'll talk some more about this Jackson. Hopefully that will help you come to terms. In the meantime, take your anxiety medications and try to relax, okay?"

"Sure, Jane."

* * *

His dark hair barely touched his ears now. He combed his fingers through it, missing the longer strands. But it changed his face, making his angular bone structure stand out.

Eyeglasses covered his blue eyes, masking them a bit.

With a new wardrobe, he would be mostly unrecognizable to people used to his shaggy hair and sharp suits. It was a start to rebuilding his life. The hardest part would be finding a new job. He was used to managing.

After leaving his family behind in Seattle, he'd fallen in with the wrong crowd. He'd started low on the totem pole and worked his way up to becoming a freelance manager with no ties to any certain company. No loyalties to any certain government or cause. His only friend in the world pulled him out of a house in Miami, hired a doctor, and gave him a new identity.

Jackson met Jim early on in his career. Jim was only a few years older and a skilled assassin. Jackson helped him carry out a few assignments. When Jim went freelance, Jackson followed. Their world was a small one and they stayed in touch and referred assignments to each other.

The Keefe assignment came from an old contact of Jim's. Jim walked away from the business several years ago to marry his high school sweetheart. He settled down, started a technology company, and withdrew from the business.

The Keefe job was a risk, yet Jackson decided his final job should end with a bang. He took it, even though he wasn't pleased with particulars of the job or his assistant. The man he ordered to sit on Lisa's father didn't like to take orders from a man younger than himself.

Not to mention that he wasn't just killing Charles Keefe. Jackson was destroying the man's family at the same time. It would make a bigger splash in the headlines and achieve his employer's goals, but it wasn't an assignment he would be proud of. Lisa even called him on that.

Lisa, Lisa, Lisa. He couldn't get her out of his head. After eight weeks of watching her every move, he thought he knew her better than anyone. She showed him wrong just in the few hours they spent together on the plane. A new side of Lisa emerged, one she kept hidden, and he was impressed.

The distance of the past few weeks allowed him to appreciate his creation. It was his plan that forced her to come out of her protective cocoon. He made her fight back.

She scarred him forever and he managed to return the favor. She would never forget him.

Jackson didn't need to work. He'd invested a lot of his paychecks over the years and had a nice cushion for retirement. His line of work didn't have pension plans. He created his own.

The trouble was that he _wanted_ to work. He thought he wanted to retire, but the reality was, he needed a change of pace.

Lisa provided him with an escape plan.

* * *

Boxes filled the crowded apartment. Most of them were sealed, a few marked with block letters designating what room they were destined for. The furniture was covered in plastic, ready for the movers to load it onto the waiting truck.

Lisa loaded a few last-minute belongings into her suitcase. She zipped it shut and did a last minute walkthrough of her apartment.

The walls were bare, the whole apartment stripped of who she was. Her entire life was condensed into cardboard boxes. Her job as a hotel manager was gone. She'd been placed on leave pending an investigation into the explosion.

She gave her notice, terminated her lease, and began packing. Miami was no longer home to her. There were too many bad memories there for her to feel safe. She needed a change in her life.

It was time for Lisa to start over somewhere new.

**Author's Notes:**

The story will become more interactive in the next chapter as Lisa moves into her new place and Jackson visits Jim's company. Special thanks to **cypris88** for her help with proofreading! Check out her amazing JxL story, _Sanguinary_!

Please read and review! :)

Lisa reisert - Thank you for the review and I hope you enjoy the rest of the story!


	4. Chapter Three: Weaving In and Out

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Three**

"_And yesterday is weaving in and out…" ~ __**Comfort Eagle**__ by CAKE_

Maryland was just over a twelve hour drive away from Lisa's hometown of Miami, yet it could've easily been across the border in Canada for all the similarities between the two. Miami stayed close to a balmy seventy degrees even in the late fall. Not in Maryland.

In the two weeks Lisa lived in Frederick, she watched the weather go from overwhelming humidity that left her stripped down to her underwear in front of a fan, to severe wind and cold that prompted her to pull out her thickest sweater and hunker down in her new townhouse.

Fall began to set in, the breeze picking up, and the weather fluctuating from boiling to freezing on any given day.

She learned to enjoy the brisk fall days. She went on daily jogs through the park near her townhouse to build up her stamina and endurance. She'd been athletic all through high school and college, first as a cheerleader, then later as a field hockey player and cross-country runner. She enjoyed the rush of endorphins when she ran and how each measured step allowed her anger and stress to melt away.

Her jog took her across to the local college on occasion. Most of the students ignored her, especially when she ran on their gravel path. The small track circled the outside of the college and rumor had it that the college president ran there every day with the athletic teams.

Curiosity led her into campus one fall day. She circled the campus enough times to finally decide to explore. The last time she stepped onto a college campus was when she graduated. Lisa lost touch with all her friends from then, but she still had good memories of the time she spent there. One of her favorite parts of campus was the gym. She past the gym often enough on her run that it was worth taking a peek. Her interest took her past the science building and the dorm beside it and into the gym. The pool adjacent to the old gym echoed with screams of delight from the local children who used the outdoor pool.

She climbed the stairs to the second level, where the main part of the gym was. It was a basketball court complete with large windows that were used to ventilate the air-condition-less gym. A few blue mats were screwed against one wall and three others lay on the floor.

In the middle of the gym, a young woman kept her back to Lisa, her long hair falling out of its braid, as she ducked and hit the mat with her shoulder before rolling.

She popped up a moment later, her fists up to protect her face.

"Sorry, I just—" Lisa started.

"No, it's okay. I was just finishing up." The girl wiped some sweat from her forehead with the back of her right arm.

"If you don't mind me asking… what are you doing?"

"Practicing stop, drop, and roll." A twinkle in the stranger's blue eyes hinted at a mischievous nature. "You never know when it's gonna be useful."

"I bet."

"It's all about the training. When it becomes second nature, then it could save your life… or a bit of skin."

"So, you practice…"

"Self-defense."

Lisa nodded. "Self-defense, that's a good thing for women to know."

"Yeah, I've been practicing since I was eighteen. Learning how to fall has been the most help. I've avoided a few broken bones that way."

_That could've been useful when he flipped me over the stairs…_

"Is there a class you go to?" Lisa asked. It couldn't hurt to learn a few new things, could it?

"Actually, I teach a few. Why don't you come to one?"

"I don't know."

"Every woman should take it. Especially those who live in a college town or alone."

"I'll think about it." _I could probably teach some of that class. Such as how to beat up your stalker 101 and pen-stabbing…_

"Great." The brown-haired girl stepped a bit closer. "I'm Kat, by the way."

"Lisa," she offered, shaking Kat's hand.

"So… about the class. It's free and it's always open. Some people come once and never come back, but others come every single time. It's all levels."

"I don't know—"

"Try it. Running isn't enough," Kat said with a wink. She moved to fold up the mat she'd been falling on, her workout top's strap shifting just enough to hint at the ugly scar on her left shoulder.

* * *

Jackson limped into the conference room. Only a few of the plush leather chairs were occupied. It was a closed meeting that only high-ranking employees were admitted to.

Jim Carter sat at the head of the table, his tie already loosened despite the early hour.

Jackson slipped into an empty seat not far from the door. The other five people in the room stopped reading through their files to glance at him. He was a novelty to them. They had no idea who he was and what he'd done. At least two of the men gathered around the table were younger than him.

"Murphy, stop drooling. This is Jackson Rippner. He's an old… associate of mine. He'll be working with us for a bit. And no, Pearson, you can't beat him up yet. It wouldn't be a fair fight, not when he's injured," Jim said with a slight smile at the end.

Pearson looked disappointed. Judging by his black t-shirt and jeans, not to mention the muscles on his arms and the Smith & Wesson he carried in a shoulder holster, Pearson spent a lot of time in the gym. He had the build of an enforcer of types. It wouldn't surprise him if Pearson was ex-military, possibly a Ranger.

Tough guy. That's what Pearson looked like. He fit the mold of the bad boy that mothers warned their daughters to stay away from. He probably ate guys like Jackson for breakfast.

But his buddy, the one Jim accused of drooling, was the opposite. A string bean of sorts, Murphy fit the mold of a geeky computer nerd. He, too, carried a gun.

In fact, everyone at the table had a weapon or two. Everyone except Jackson.

"Rippner was a manager. He just recently retired. He has a bit of spare time, so he agreed to share it with us. Please, pick his brain people. Go to him and ask his opinion. Learn from his experiences just as you have learned from each others," Jim said, taking back control of the meeting. "Now, we're going to do circle time, just like in preschool. Name and position, please. You first, Murphy."

Nerd boy cleared his throat. "Aidan Murphy, assistant and b&e specialist."

"Don't forget con artist," taunted the man called Pearson. "Marc Pearson, FBI. Also, I'm the resident weapons guru."

FBI? Jim was recruiting Feds now? Since when?

"Knock it off, you two," Carter warned. "Unless you want stakeout duty for the next six months…"

"Fine. I'm not FBI. I have the creds, but I don't work there anymore. Not officially," Pearson explained.

Jackson relaxed. While Jim always used to mix with the government types, Jackson tried to steer clear of the suit-and-tie brigade. Red tape was not his friend. Neither were the Feds, certainly not after the disaster in Miami. One wrong word to the wrong people and he'd be hunted down, both by law enforcement and his employer.

"Pearson is a liaison with a few old pals in the Bureau. We pass cases back and forth," Jim clarified. "You're next, Donaldson."

Directly across the table from Jackson sat Donaldson. He was easily the oldest man at the table, an old timer with the gray temples to prove he'd done his time. "Trevor Donaldson. I handle surveillance for the company."

Jackson nodded in his direction, thankful for his formal behavior. The school age repartee between Murphy, Pearson, and Carter was irritating. This was a business meeting, not a playground at recess.

The fourth man at the table, close to Jim's age, introduced himself, but Jackson was no longer listening. He couldn't. Not with the photograph of Lisa he found stuffed inside the folder. Not with those green eyes reminding him of her accusing stare.

_Her muscles were tense, her lithe body fitting between his own and the sink. His hands encircled her throat, pinning her upper body to the wall. He could feel her leg moving, either to kick him or find solid ground._

_Her eyes. They met his own dead on. Despite a tiny hint of fear, she hated him. It showed. She was repulsed by his behavior even as her behavior turned him on._

_When he found the puckered skin beneath her creamy shirt, he understood._

* * *

Lisa pulled the flyer from her pocket. She smoothed out the creases, studying the black print. The girl in the gym was odd, to be sure, but she did have a point. Self-defense was important. After all, one couldn't carry a field hockey stick everywhere for protection.

Five days a week, from four o' clock until ten that night, the friendly stranger ran classes. On Saturdays, the hours were significantly different. Not that it mattered. There was plenty of variety just from the week day classes.

No charge. How that young woman could give up that many hours on a weekly basis and asking nothing for it still shocked Lisa. No one was that selfless. Didn't she have classes to attend and papers to write? What about a boyfriend?

She sighed, looking down at the location. The studio that Kat casually mentioned wasn't a small studio. It was a warehouse. A large one.

Lisa glanced at the clock hanging in her living room. It was already quarter to four. There was no sense in running to the first session. Not directly after her run.

She'd wait and see the enigmatic Kat later that evening.

**Author's Notes:**

Coming up, Lisa gets a job and Jackson settles in at J. Carter and Associates.

Please leave a review! Thanks for reading! I just want to give a quick shout-out to my reviewers! You guys are amazing! Please keep the reviews coming-it's really good inspiration for me to keep writing and updating on time.

Also, this chapter wouldn't be nearly as smooth without help from **cypris88.** Many, many, MANY thanks!


	5. Chapter Four: I Could Be

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Four**

"_I could be cold; I could be ruthless…. I could be weak; I could be senseless… " ~ __**Just Like You**__ by Three Days Grace_

The studio was a recently remodeled warehouse. It was high-class, clean, and filled with brand new mats, punching bags, boxing gear, treadmills, and other bits that left Lisa's mind spinning.

If this was what Kat had to use, why had she been practicing on the basketball court down at the college? Why not here?

In an open span of flooring, a group of about nine people, ranging from college students to women in their 30s, stretched. Their leader, clad in form-fitted gray sweats and just a workout bra, her dark hair tied in a ponytail, was Kat.

"Oh, good! You came!" Kat called, a wide smile breaking across her face. She left the warm-ups, leaving a guy to take care of it.

"Yeah… hi…" Lisa said softly, trying to hide her embarrassment at being singled out.

"I'm glad you could come. It's always great when I can help someone new." Kat gestured to a separate section of the gym. "For your first time, a private session is probably best."

"Oh… but what about—"

"Aidan's got it under control. Don't worry."

Lisa followed her, moving slowly.

"Okay, Lisa, right?"

"Yeah."

"Loosen up a bit. Start by stretching your legs. Like what you do before you run," Kat suggested, holding her right ankle in her hand. She stood on one leg, like a flamingo, stretching her leg behind her.

Lisa set down her purse and followed Kat's lead.

"Don't worry. Today will be easy. No stop, drop, and roll," Kat said lightly.

"Right." She didn't look comforted by that at all.

* * *

"Here's your office."

Jackson limped up to the door, staring at the hallway plaque. It read 'Jackson Rippner' even though the license in his wallet said 'Tom Jackson'. A plain, simple name. It was easier to adjust to having his first name as a last name than adjusting to a completely foreign name.

"I know it's not as nice as what you're used to, but it's functional."

He stepped inside, reaching for the light switch. It illuminated a decent-sized office. There was a large desk with a computer in a corner with a decent desk chair. A couch rested against one wall. A third had a set of empty bookshelves.

"Thanks, Jim."

"Don't be afraid to personalize it. If you want a different desk or chair… go ahead and get it. We'll reimburse you."

"No, no. It's fine."

He'd never truly had his own office except at his home. He moved around too much to have a permanent work space.

"If you don't want to stay in Miami, I'm sending Murphy and Pearson back up to the main office. I'll be back up there in a few more weeks myself."

"We'll see. I might need to leave."

"It's the Reisert girl, isn't it?"

Jackson looked up from where he was sitting on his new couch. "How—"

"The photograph. You never took your eyes off it. Not even when everyone else left."

"It's nothing."

"No, it's not. I know that look. I've seen it before. I saw it when my daughter fell in love. Her husband always had that same weepy look like I'd kicked his puppy. And that wistful, lost look…"

"I'm not in love with her."

"You are. The sooner you come to terms with it, the better off you'd be. She kicked your ass, Jack. She's your match," Jim explained. "No woman has ever come close to defying you before. That's why you're infatuated with her."

He shook his head. "I want the bitch dead. That's all."

"I don't buy that. No one does."

"I'll prove it," Rippner growled, massaging his sore throat. It still hurt to talk at times.

"Go ahead. Prove that you're a man by killing a woman. Go for it. I'll even give you the address—"

"I _know_ the address!"

"Fine. Go."

Jim slipped a sheath off his belt. He flipped it over, offering the handle to Jackson. With a slight frown, Jackson unsheathed the knife. It was a KA-BAR, just like the one he'd chased Lisa with. The same knife he was sure that haunted her nightmares now.

Just like he did.

* * *

Self-defense wasn't as bad as Lisa feared. She had a few sore muscles, but her self-confidence was rising.

Invincible. That's how she felt.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow?" Kat asked, escorting her toward the door.

"Sure. What time?"

"Eight work for you? Most everyone's gone for the day. It'd be more one on one that way."

"Okay. Do you mind if I stay for a bit? Just to watch."

"That's fine." Kat grinned a bit. "I was just going to practice with Aidan before he leaves."

Lisa took a seat on a bench.

In the middle of the gym was a large collection of mats. They were blue and thick enough to cushion a fall. But even the mats weren't as safe as they could be. Not once Kat and Aidan started their session.

They started sparring, each one of them throwing punches at the other, dancing around in a circle. A few landed, but most of them were blocked, as where the kicks. It was intricate, intimate dance between two people. Both were hunters, but neither would admit to being prey.

The pair was evenly matched until Kat let down her long hair. The ponytail disappeared and Kat started to walk away from him, her fingers crossed on both hands for a brief moment. It was some type of signal between the partners. Aidan waited a beat, before lunging at her. He wrapped his hand into her hair, jerking her toward him.

She let out an involuntary scream, causing Lisa to shudder.

An elbow to the gut, followed by a punch, and Kat was free.

Lisa dug her fingernails into the bench, her vision shifting. Her chest was tight. Breathing didn't come easy.

They were on the mat now, Kat curled up on her side. She looked asleep.

Aidan climbed on top of her, his hands around her throat.

Gasping for air, Lisa bolted to her feet, trying to keep the images from her head.

_Fingers twisted into her head, dragging her backward. It pulled her to the ground, her hands and knees hitting the pavement first. Her stockings ripped; her hands and knees stinging from dozens of small cuts. The knife's blade pressed against her throat._

_"Scream and you die!" he warned, the knife nicking her skin._

_Whimpering, Lisa swallowed her screams for help. _

_He moved closer, his stench filling her nose. Sweat. A hint of aftershave. Smoke. It was a thick cloud that emanated from him._

"Lisa? Lisa?" Kat's concerned voice pulled her back from the nightmare.

She gasped, unable to draw in a breath.

"It's okay. Relax, relax, just relax. You're safe here. No one can hurt you. He can't hurt you…" Kat soothed. "Aidan, get a water. And a cloth…"

Lisa slowly started to breathe, leaning on Kat.

"That's it. Just breathe. It's okay."

But it wasn't okay. It'd never be okay again. She was broken; weak and defenseless. Vulnerable to the nth degree.

* * *

The apartment was pitch-black when he unlocked the front door. Lisa's spare key underneath the welcome mat made it an easy entrance.

Not that a simple lock and deadbolt could keep him out.

Jackson went straight for her bedroom. He knew the layout of the tiny place as well as Lisa did. He'd watched her live, eat, and sleep in that very same apartment for eight weeks. The classic black-and-white movies she'd watch in the living room while eating her eggs in the early morning hours. He knew the lines to each one by heart.

His shoes didn't squeak as he walked down the wood floor leading to her bedroom. He'd laid in there before when she was at work. He'd picked her hairs up from the pillow.

The door to the bedroom was slightly ajar. He felt it with his shoe, slowly sliding it up. His knife was already in his hand. This time, he wouldn't give Lisa a chance to fight back. No sticks, no pens, and no heels. No weapons of any kind. He held all the cards this time around.

Two feet to the end of the bed.

He slowed his breath, taking extra care to stay silent.

No nightlights were plugged in to illuminate him. Darkness surrounded him.

He preferred it that way.

Jackson turned to the left, sliding along the edge of the bed. He felt for the mattress and found only air.

He stepped further into the center. Perhaps she'd shifted the bed.

Still nothing.

He back tracked to the doorway. Screw subtlety.

Jackson flicked the light switch, bathing the room in a warm glow. But that's all it did.

The bedroom was empty. There was no bed, no rug, no nightstand, and most importantly, no Lisa.

He limped back into the main portion of the apartment. It was empty as well. Deserted.

_What the fuck is going on, Lisa? You should be hiding here, under the covers, you little bitch. How the hell did you sneak out of Miami? Why the fuck didn't anyone tell me? _

It looked like it was time to take Jim up on his offer to switch locations.

**Author's Notes:**

Now Jackson begins his hunt for Lisa, just because he wants to prove that he can beat her. He doesn't admit to having any feelings for her for a while.

As for Lisa, she will be sharing stories with Kat eventually. Kat's no stranger to panic attacks and we'll find out why soon. Also, Lisa is on the verge of getting a job.

Thanks again for reading and please, please keep reviewing. It helps force me to sit down and write a chapter. I love hearing opinions. Even if it's as simple as 'please update soon', it makes my day. I work long hours and when I get home, it's a struggle to turn on the computer, let alone write.

I hope you're all enjoying this story. Expect a new chapter to follow shortly since the story's picking up pace.


	6. Chapter Five: Give Me Myself Back

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Four**

"_I could be cold; I could be ruthless…. I could be weak; I could be senseless… " ~ __**Just Like You**__ by Three Days Grace_

The studio was a recently remodeled warehouse. It was high-class, clean, and filled with brand new mats, punching bags, boxing gear, treadmills, and other bits that left Lisa's mind spinning.

If this was what Kat had to use, why had she been practicing on the basketball court down at the college? Why not here?

In an open span of flooring, a group of about nine people, ranging from college students to women in their 30s, stretched. Their leader, clad in form-fitted gray sweats and just a workout bra, her dark hair tied in a ponytail, was Kat.

"Oh, good! You came!" Kat called, a wide smile breaking across her face. She left the warm-ups, leaving a guy to take care of it.

"Yeah… hi…" Lisa said softly, trying to hide her embarrassment at being singled out.

"I'm glad you could come. It's always great when I can help someone new." Kat gestured to a separate section of the gym. "For your first time, a private session is probably best."

"Oh… but what about—"

"Aidan's got it under control. Don't worry."

Lisa followed her, moving slowly.

"Okay, Lisa, right?"

"Yeah."

"Loosen up a bit. Start by stretching your legs. Like what you do before you run," Kat suggested, holding her right ankle in her hand. She stood on one leg, like a flamingo, stretching her leg behind her.

Lisa set down her purse and followed Kat's lead.

"Don't worry. Today will be easy. No stop, drop, and roll," Kat said lightly.

"Right." She didn't look comforted by that at all.

* * *

"Here's your office."

Jackson limped up to the door, staring at the hallway plaque. It read 'Jackson Rippner' even though the license in his wallet said 'Tom Jackson'. A plain, simple name. It was easier to adjust to having his first name as a last name than adjusting to a completely foreign name.

"I know it's not as nice as what you're used to, but it's functional."

He stepped inside, reaching for the light switch. It illuminated a decent-sized office. There was a large desk with a computer in a corner with a decent desk chair. A couch rested against one wall. A third had a set of empty bookshelves.

"Thanks, Jim."

"Don't be afraid to personalize it. If you want a different desk or chair… go ahead and get it. We'll reimburse you."

"No, no. It's fine."

He'd never truly had his own office except at his home. He moved around too much to have a permanent work space.

"If you don't want to stay in Miami, I'm sending Murphy and Pearson back up to the main office. I'll be back up there in a few more weeks myself."

"We'll see. I might need to leave."

"It's the Reisert girl, isn't it?"

Jackson looked up from where he was sitting on his new couch. "How—"

"The photograph. You never took your eyes off it. Not even when everyone else left."

"It's nothing."

"No, it's not. I know that look. I've seen it before. I saw it when my daughter fell in love. Her husband always had that same weepy look like I'd kicked his puppy. And that wistful, lost look…"

"I'm not in love with her."

"You are. The sooner you come to terms with it, the better off you'd be. She kicked your ass, Jack. She's your match," Jim explained. "No woman has ever come close to defying you before. That's why you're infatuated with her."

He shook his head. "I want the bitch dead. That's all."

"I don't buy that. No one does."

"I'll prove it," Rippner growled, massaging his sore throat. It still hurt to talk at times.

"Go ahead. Prove that you're a man by killing a woman. Go for it. I'll even give you the address—"

"I _know_ the address!"

"Fine. Go."

Jim slipped a sheath off his belt. He flipped it over, offering the handle to Jackson. With a slight frown, Jackson unsheathed the knife. It was a KA-BAR, just like the one he'd chased Lisa with. The same knife he was sure that haunted her nightmares now.

Just like he did.

* * *

Self-defense wasn't as bad as Lisa feared. She had a few sore muscles, but her self-confidence was rising.

Invincible. That's how she felt.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow?" Kat asked, escorting her toward the door.

"Sure. What time?"

"Eight work for you? Most everyone's gone for the day. It'd be more one on one that way."

"Okay. Do you mind if I stay for a bit? Just to watch."

"That's fine." Kat grinned a bit. "I was just going to practice with Aidan before he leaves."

Lisa took a seat on a bench.

In the middle of the gym was a large collection of mats. They were blue and thick enough to cushion a fall. But even the mats weren't as safe as they could be. Not once Kat and Aidan started their session.

They started sparring, each one of them throwing punches at the other, dancing around in a circle. A few landed, but most of them were blocked, as where the kicks. It was intricate, intimate dance between two people. Both were hunters, but neither would admit to being prey.

The pair was evenly matched until Kat let down her long hair. The ponytail disappeared and Kat started to walk away from him, her fingers crossed on both hands for a brief moment. It was some type of signal between the partners. Aidan waited a beat, before lunging at her. He wrapped his hand into her hair, jerking her toward him.

She let out an involuntary scream, causing Lisa to shudder.

An elbow to the gut, followed by a punch, and Kat was free.

Lisa dug her fingernails into the bench, her vision shifting. Her chest was tight. Breathing didn't come easy.

They were on the mat now, Kat curled up on her side. She looked asleep.

Aidan climbed on top of her, his hands around her throat.

Gasping for air, Lisa bolted to her feet, trying to keep the images from her head.

_Fingers twisted into her head, dragging her backward. It pulled her to the ground, her hands and knees hitting the pavement first. Her stockings ripped; her hands and knees stinging from dozens of small cuts. The knife's blade pressed against her throat._

_"Scream and you die!" he warned, the knife nicking her skin._

_Whimpering, Lisa swallowed her screams for help. _

_He moved closer, his stench filling her nose. Sweat. A hint of aftershave. Smoke. It was a thick cloud that emanated from him._

"Lisa? Lisa?" Kat's concerned voice pulled her back from the nightmare.

She gasped, unable to draw in a breath.

"It's okay. Relax, relax, just relax. You're safe here. No one can hurt you. He can't hurt you…" Kat soothed. "Aidan, get a water. And a cloth…"

Lisa slowly started to breathe, leaning on Kat.

"That's it. Just breathe. It's okay."

But it wasn't okay. It'd never be okay again. She was broken; weak and defenseless. Vulnerable to the nth degree.

* * *

The apartment was pitch-black when he unlocked the front door. Lisa's spare key underneath the welcome mat made it an easy entrance.

Not that a simple lock and deadbolt could keep him out.

Jackson went straight for her bedroom. He knew the layout of the tiny place as well as Lisa did. He'd watched her live, eat, and sleep in that very same apartment for eight weeks. The classic black-and-white movies she'd watch in the living room while eating her eggs in the early morning hours. He knew the lines to each one by heart.

His shoes didn't squeak as he walked down the wood floor leading to her bedroom. He'd laid in there before when she was at work. He'd picked her hairs up from the pillow.

The door to the bedroom was slightly ajar. He felt it with his shoe, slowly sliding it up. His knife was already in his hand. This time, he wouldn't give Lisa a chance to fight back. No sticks, no pens, and no heels. No weapons of any kind. He held all the cards this time around.

Two feet to the end of the bed.

He slowed his breath, taking extra care to stay silent.

No nightlights were plugged in to illuminate him. Darkness surrounded him.

He preferred it that way.

Jackson turned to the left, sliding along the edge of the bed. He felt for the mattress and found only air.

He stepped further into the center. Perhaps she'd shifted the bed.

Still nothing.

He back tracked to the doorway. Screw subtlety.

Jackson flicked the light switch, bathing the room in a warm glow. But that's all it did.

The bedroom was empty. There was no bed, no rug, no nightstand, and most importantly, no Lisa.

He limped back into the main portion of the apartment. It was empty as well. Deserted.

_What the fuck is going on, Lisa? You should be hiding here, under the covers, you little bitch. How the hell did you sneak out of Miami? Why the fuck didn't anyone tell me? _

It looked like it was time to take Jim up on his offer to switch locations.

**Author's Notes:**

Now Jackson begins his hunt for Lisa, just because he wants to prove that he can beat her. He doesn't admit to having any feelings for her for a while.

As for Lisa, she will be sharing stories with Kat eventually. Kat's no stranger to panic attacks and we'll find out why soon. Also, Lisa is on the verge of getting a job.

Thanks again for reading and please, please keep reviewing. It helps force me to sit down and write a chapter. I love hearing opinions. Even if it's as simple as 'please update soon', it makes my day. I work long hours and when I get home, it's a struggle to turn on the computer, let alone write.

I hope you're all enjoying this story. Expect a new chapter to follow shortly since the story's picking up pace.


	7. Chapter Six: I Could Do Most Anything

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye!_ I do own all the original characters not featured in the movie.

**Chapter Six**

"_I could do most anything to you…"__** ~ Somewhere A Clock Is Ticking **__by Snow Patrol _

Lisa hit the ground running the next morning.

After living in Frederick for almost a month, she'd gotten used to her routine. Wake up, run, come back and relax. She almost didn't miss having a job.

Midway through her morning jog, she stopped at the college's gym. There was a small chance than Kat might be working out there. If not, she could always try the studio later that afternoon.

She shouldn't have worried. In the middle of the gym Kat stood with her fists up to protect her face. A hand-held punching bag rested against the wall, supported by the folded mats and a pile of similar bags. Lisa leaned against the cinderblock wall, watching Kat execute kick after kick with perfect precision. Her sneakered feet cut the air as well as any blade.

Wiping sweat from her brow, Kat trudged over to half-folded bleachers to snag a few gulps of water.

"How long have you been standing there?" Kat asked, not even looking up from her water bottle between sips.

"Since you made that bag regret being sewn."

Kat patted the bleacher beside her. Lisa took up a seat.

"Does this mean you're coming back to class?"

"I don't know. Really," Lisa offered. "I just… you're the closest person I have to a friend around here…"

"Do you need advice?"

"What I really need is a restart button."

A grin crept across Kat's flushed face. "I've got something even better. How would you like a job?"

* * *

"Turn here," Murphy directed, sliding forward on the edge of his seat. He reminded Jackson of a kid on Christmas Day. He didn't know how Murphy was still strapped in the seat given the amount of fidgeting he did.

Jackson turned the wheel one-handed, the headlights cutting through the darkness to illuminate a driveway. Gravel crunched underneath the tires, reminding Jackson of snapped bones..

"Keep going… drive around back. There's parking there. No one will see you."

Jackson slowly turned around the side of the modest two-story. Light flicked on as he drove, alerted by the motion sensors. Sure enough, there was a small gravel lot around the back of the house. A tan sedan took up one spot, the symbol on the hood reflecting in the headlights.

He pulled the Audi in beside it. He shifted into park as Murphy let himself out of the car.

The kid went straight to the back door and stepped inside. Jackson shook his head as he limped around the car. Someone was hoping to get lucky tonight.

When Jackson stepped inside, he understood why. The skinny kid that worked for Carter had a drop-dead gorgeous wife.

* * *

Lisa smoothed down her black skirt, brushing invisible fuzz off the satin-like material. Her pale-pink blouse stayed tucked in the waistband, flattering her curvy figure. A string of pearls inherited from her grandmother, Henrietta, circled her throat, partially hidden by the blouse.

Black heels strapped around her ankles, raising her up an extra three inches. She glanced in the mirror, still surprised at seeing her professional self reflecting back. She'd left behind the business suits and skirts in Miami.  
She finally had a reason to dress up again and it wasn't for a date.

It was a job interview.

One last peek in the mirror and a daub of lipstick finished her preparations.

_Perfect. Very professional. No one can tell that you're a nervous wreck since the last building you worked in got the top floor blown up with help from a blue-eyed terrorist…_

None of that mattered. Kat already told her over and over again that she was a lock for the job. Kat even recommended her to the manager. Or at least that was what the manager said when they booked the interview.

Lisa locked the townhouse behind her, feeling more whole than she had in several months. She had a new place, hopefully a new job, and no stalkers following her every move. And she'd made a friend.

Life was looking up for the first time in the two months since the flight.

* * *

Murphy's face mashed against his wife's, one hand twisted in her thick hair as the other slipped under her t-shirt. She tugged him toward the wall, allowing him to press her thin body against it. A small, soft body with curves in the right places from what little Jackson could see.

_Lisa…_

It'd only been about two weeks since he last saw her. A week since Lisa packed up and disappeared. Two weeks since she beat the shit out of him.

He shook his head. This girl wasn't Lisa. They were nothing alike.

The lip-lock ended. "Jackson Rippner? What are you doing here?"

The dark-haired girl stepped away from her husband, a smile plastered on her face. A few stray curls fell into her eyes, those sparkling blue eyes that she shared with her father.

"Lynn, what the fuck are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she taunted, her arms crossed as she leaned against a counter. "I didn't know you were coming for a visit."

"He's not. It's… it's for work," Murphy said.

"Really? What's the job?"

"Just surveillance. Why don't you see if the guest room's ready? Hmm?" Murphy kissed his wife again, leaving Carter's daughter speechless—a rare occurrence.

Once Lynn disappeared, Jackson corned Murphy. "You didn't tell me your wife was the boss's daughter."

"I didn't think it was important. She left the business. Works at a few different places now."

Jackson sank into a chair at the kitchen table. "Does she know what you _really_ do or does she buy the same bullshit story Carter feeds to his wife?"

"She knows… she worked with me for a while. She knows all about the company," Murphy said without hesitation.

_Damn it. That means she knew who I was…_

"Don't worry about it. She adores you. Anyone who's a friend of Carter's automatically passes. Besides, she had nothing but praise for your skills when I talked to her."

"This job… it's strictly between you and me. That means no pillow talk, got it?" Jackson warned as the stairs creaked behind them.

"What job is that?" demanded Lynn, reappearing in the kitchen. "What are you trying to hide, Jackson? Aidan?"

"Nothing, love." Murphy moved toward her, only to be stopped dead in his tracks by an ice-cold stare.

"You're lying. What's your excuse, Jack?"

Those blue eyes, similar to his own, focused directly on him. He couldn't help it. But if Lynn was anything like her father, she wouldn't give up until she wore him down completely. It would save valuable time and energy if he just laid out the basic plan.

"Murphy's offered to help me do some surveillance up here. Nothing important. Just a little side gig."

"Who are you stalking?"

"It's not—"

"It's stalking," she said firmly. A bull dog, just like her father. "Who's the unlucky bastard?"

"An old… acquaintance."

* * *

"So? When do you start?" Kat demanded, her own heels clicking on the marble floor beside Lisa's. Kat's business wear was borderline inappropriate, especially compared next to her own conservative skirt and blouse.

"Tomorrow. 8 o' clock sharp."

"Excellent. We need some new blood around here. Do you want the tour?"

"Uh…"

Kat linked her arm through Lisa's, steering her toward the back of the bank. "Here's the kitchen, bathrooms, lockers, safe deposit room…"

The names, places, and faces all began to blur together.

A customer walked by, giving Lisa a mouthful of cologne. Too much, too thick.

_Jackson… he's here…_

Her eyes scanned the lobby, falling on the back of a man in a pinstripe suit, with dark brown hair curling over the collar. Jackson. He'd found her.

She gagged, sinking to her knees. Kat knelt beside her. She could feel the warm hands holding hers, but she couldn't focus. Everything blurred.

"Lisa, breathe… breathe!"

The tingling in her fingers crept up her arms, her face already numb. Too far gone. Too late to do anything except… sink…

* * *

The Audi rolled past the address on Lisa's statements after circling the block several times. Why she picked downtown Frederick, land of the one-way streets, was a mystery to him.

He parked on the park side, staring at the townhouse. It was three floors, stone exterior, with a garage around back according to the real estate sign out front. One of the four units was for safe. He grinned, copying down the agent's name and phone number.

_Looks like we're gonna be neighbors again, Leese…_

**Author's Notes:**

Lisa's still struggling to cope, but she's getting closer to seeing Jackson. It won't be long now.

Big thanks to all my reviewers once more! This one's for you! And, as always, many thanks to **cyrpis88** for double-checking my writing. Your opinions are invaluable.

I hope the timeline makes a bit more sense now. I added hints as to what time it is. Jackson and Lisa aren't on the same time frame yet. He moves in a few after her. Lisa has lived there for two months by this point—when she's getting the job.

Since I made you all wait a week for a new chapter, I've got a surprise for you—I'm going to update again either Wednesday or Thursday, followed by another new chapter over the weekend—that means three new chapters this week! Enjoy and please leave a review!


	8. Chapter Seven: Never Gonna Break Me

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye!_

**Chapter Seven**

"_You're never gonna break me…" __**~ Pocketful of Sunshine **__by Natasha Bedingfield _

Two weeks after the flight, Jackson used his cane, leaning on it to help with the limp. His pinstripe suit was impeccable, same as his shirt and tie. The tie became necessary to help distract from the scar on his throat. The cane added authenticity to his story about an accident maiming his leg. It was the perfect disguise.

"Well, what do you think, Mr. Jackson?" the real estate agent, a pump woman in her forties, asked.

He limped through the first floor again, smiling. "I'll take it."

The realtor seemed surprised, but she wasn't about to turn him down. No one would.

* * *

"Lisa? Are you okay?"

She slowly opened her eyes, to see Kat's worried blue eyes mere inches from her face. It came back, inch by inch. The job interview, the bank, Jackson…

Her breathing started to return to normal as feeling crept back into her fingers and face. All of her energy was sapped just by a minor attack.

"Is he gone?" she asked quietly, her voice a little rough.

"Yeah, he's gone. It's safe now. Let's get you home."

Kat helped her off the floor, keeping her from falling flat again on her wobbly feet. Feeling helpless and defeated, Lisa relied on her to keep steady. She wanted to be stronger; to hold her head high, to walk on her on, to stop having these attacks. But she couldn't. She couldn't control her demons.

They controlled _her_.

* * *

His new furniture was delivered while Lisa was out. The movers carefully placed it according to his instructions. He'd limped around, barking out orders until he lost his voice. Then he got down to his real work.

Drilling holes was messy business. However, the proximity to Lisa's place made the job easy. Tiny pinhole cameras slipped through the holes he drilled into her home. The camera transmitted wirelessly to his computer. He placed them on each of the three floors about ten feet apart. Some were high up in the crown molding, giving him a nice view of the room. Others stayed low to the floor, mainly for microphone usage instead of visual picture.

A few hours of hard work and he was ready to pick up where they left off.

Now all he needed was for Lisa to come home.

* * *

Lisa slumped down in her chair, still worn-out.

Kat sat on the couch across from her. "What did you see?"

"Nothing…"

"Was it a smell or a person who started it?" Kat tried again.

"No… nothing…"

"Lisa, it's okay to tell me, you know. I can help you. I've been through it, too."

She shook her head. "No way. You're too tough."

"You don't get tough unless you're put through hell," Kat said softly. "I've been through hell and back several times. That's why I teach defense. So others don't have to know what it's like."

Lisa opened her mouth to speak, only to have Kat speak first. She could remember Kat's odd scar on her shoulder from their first meeting. What secrets was her new friend hiding?

"Rape."

* * *

Jackson settled back in his chair, the computer screen filled with camera views. He glanced to his left, where the neutral-colored wall disappeared underneath photographs. Some were black and white, others color. All of them were of Lisa. Going to work, at work, at home, with her father—every aspect of her life remained on the wall for him to see. The photographs were all he had left of his old life.

"There you are…" he muttered as she walked into her townhouse. She put her purse on a glass-topped table, her keys beside it. There was a series of locks on the front door, all of which she bolted behind her.

"Still paranoid, Leese?"

She went upstairs to her bedroom and he followed, using the cameras to track her movement. Sneakers—sneakers?—dropped on the floor just inside her bedroom. She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt when she flopped down on her bed and reached for the TV remote.

_Since when did you dress down, Leese?_

He'd grown used to her work outfits. That's all she ever did. Work. Work. Work. Like him.

Now she didn't have a job, she moved several states away, and she still lived alone. No friends, no boyfriends—hell, she didn't even have a _girlfriend_.

Sure, she'd been raped. He knew that. But that was no excuse for wasting away inside her home. Even after what he'd done, she should be out living her life.

_Hypocrite…_

Did it really hurt that he was still on her mind enough that she hid inside her home? She was all that was ever on his mind. It just made them even. He didn't have a life either. He just worked.

Worked on killing her. Destroying her.

His lips curled into a sneer. Each day brought them closer. Each day he took another step forward. Another step toward Lisa's death. Each day brought them closer to the inevitable collision.

* * *

Lisa sank deeper into her overstuffed chair. _Rape? Someone raped Kat? No… no way…_

"I was only fifteen the first time. There was no one I could tell. I blocked it out. But blocking the memories—forgetting about it—only postponed the pain. He still got to me time after time."

"Why couldn't you tell anyone?"

"I didn't understand it. My parents were dead and he'd taken me in. I didn't understand that it wasn't acceptable no matter what. That it wasn't a mistake or punishment. He was just sick."

"Who was he?" Lisa asked quietly.

"My guardian. My brother-in-law."

"Oh God, Kat—"

The younger girl shook her head. "But it turns out, the woman he married… who he used to get to me, she wasn't even my sister. My parents weren't dead. I was adopted. My real parents—my birth parents—were alive. They lived just a few miles away the entire time. My father didn't even know I existed.

"I saw Scott kill another woman who looked like me. He killed at least five people before he came after me."

Lisa felt her heart pounding in her chest. _How did you survive? Why are you still sane?_

Kat paused to take a breath. "I didn't know he'd abducted me at first. I managed to escape into the woods. I feel down a cliffside. The man who found me… he was my birth father. He'd been looking for my mother's body. He found me instead."

"You had your rapist arrested?"

"That's the funny thing—I'd forgotten what happened. Repression is the clinical term. Not that it mattered. Scott couldn't let me live. I went back to collect my stuff. He shot me. I did the only thing I could do—run.

"The rest is a blur. The next thing I remember… he was dead. I'd shot him three times before my father took the gun from my hand. I woke up later in a hospital."

"How did… how come you're so… normal?" Lisa asked, still in shock.

"I learned it wasn't my fault. I learned how to fight back. To prevent it from happening again."

"All this time, you were a victim, too."

"A survivor," Kat corrected. "I refused to stay a victim. I let him hold all the power for years. I took it back just like I took the gun from him."

_I thought I took power back from Jackson. But did I? Why am I still having attacks?_

"How did you take it back?" Lisa demanded. What step to recovery did she miss?

Kat stretched on the couch. "With a lot of help. It's not something that you ever truly get over. At least, I haven't. Time helps lessen the pain. And I'm here… whenever you need to talk."

* * *

They fell into a routine, Lisa and Jackson. She got up, went for a jog—_Really, Leese? A jog?_—came back, showered, and fell back in bed with a small tub of ice cream and crappy daytime television. Together they spent their day watching the _Lifetime_ channel.

A six o' clock jog, a 7:30 shower, and they were both cozying up to the TV by 8:15. What a life. She had ice cream or candy while he ate his oatmeal or Cherrios.

They'd sit through an hour of _Reba_, followed by an hour of _Frasier,_ a show about two kooky psychiatrist brothers, and then _Will & Grace_, his sort-of favorite of the three. A quick dash to the kitchen meant Lisa ate whatever popped in the microwave in time for guilty pleasure _Desperate Housewives_. Two hours of _Desperate Housewives_.

Pure, fluffy, wannabe-soap opera trash, in his opinion. But Lisa ate it up just like the tub of Ben & Jerry's in her freezer.

After five hours of TV-watching, Lisa would crack open a book, sit at her computer, or sometimes take a walk into Downtown Frederick. Generally, it was to visit the C. Burr Artz Library—or as he liked to call it, the 'ABC' Library—for books or DVDs or for a pit-stop at the Ben & Jerry's or some other eatery along the River Walk.

She rarely got in her car. They traveled out to Wal-Mart once in two weeks. Grocery shopping was about the extent of their long-distance travel. Even that was to the Giant down Patrick Street, which meant a stop at Dunkin' Donuts for either coffee and donuts—strawberry frosted or glazed, sometimes both—or ice cream at the Baskin Robins' portion of the store.

He'd never realized her sweet tooth before. Perhaps he was finally getting to see the real Lisa Reisert. The one who drowned her sorrows in junk food and crappy TV while wearing jeans.

In another time or place, he could've learned to like this Lisa Reisert.

Fate had other plans for her. The clock kept on ticking. Each wasted day brought her closer to death. Each day he grew stronger from his own exercises. While her eyes were glued to the TV, he worked on the floor, practicing push-ups, lifting weights, and doing those blasted sit-ups that made his stitches pull at his healing flesh.

_Soon, Lisa. Soon I'll put you out of your misery._

**Author's Notes:**

Really, daytime TV is pretty boring. I spent most of last fall and winter, plus this spring, watching the exact same line-up on Lifetime. I kid you not. Of course, I wasn't eating all the junk food that Lisa does or working out like Jackson. I was just lying on the couch with a heating pad and blankets, zoned out on pain killers.

Anyways, Kat's just begun to spit out her secrets. Her rape was the easiest to spill. And, yes, repressed memories are clinically proven in some abuse cases. There's a lot of controversy due to therapists sometimes creating 'false memories', but repressed memories are real and they do work like that.

This will (hopefully) be the last chapter with very different timelines. Basically, Jackson's been behind on the times, which is why he's never seen Kat with Lisa—they haven't met yet.

Enjoy and please leave a review!


	9. Chapter Eight: Run

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Eight**

"_All there's left to do is run…" ~ __**Love Story**__ by Taylor Swift_

Following Lisa Reisert was predictable, as usual. Not that it stopped Jackson from watching her most of the day, except for when he slept.

Her routine varied little for the next few weeks. Then she joined a self-defense class. She found her niche, even befriending a young woman, and lined up a job interview. Another people-pleasing career move, only this time she worked with the rich and nasty at a bank.

_BankFrederick. What an odd name._

Lisa's new best friend was the teller supervisor at her new job. He watched them from across the street, through the drive-in window. He saw them laugh and talk. He even glimpsed Lisa's smile through the plate glass.

Jackson went into the bank on her day off and opened a few accounts. He went in disguise, using the Tom Jackson alias, in order to have a legitimate reason to be near the bank frequently. He even did banking there, mainly just moving money around from account to account, with Lisa just feet away.

The thrill of being close enough to jump the counter and grab her kept him coming back day after day. He sat in the parking lot, followed her and Kat to lunch, and came in to take out money. He flirted with danger. Dozens of cameras tracked his movements around and inside the building, putting his identity at stake. If the wrong person saw the footage, he would have to dig further underground.

None of that stopped him. He even stepped back on his plan to kill Lisa. There was no rush. Lisa wasn't going to vanish again. Jackson just needed to figure out how to finish her off without being caught by Kat.

Her schedule varied week to week. He couldn't plan in advance, as much as he wanted. At any time, Lisa went to Kat's house, or Kat came by the townhouse.

_I could kill them both…_

Kat would be a challenge to kill, but an added burden. Lisa fought harder when lives beside her own were at risk.

No, he just needed to wait and see. Sooner or later, she would be alone. Then it would be time for their reunion. He could wait. He _would_ wait.

* * *

The first week at BankFrederick was a blur of events for Lisa. Learning a new trade and a new computer system slowed her down a bit, but she excelled at dealing with even the most difficult of customers. Her only problem was the occasional male customer who reminded her of Jackson, either in looks or scent.

The panic attacks decreased in frequency thanks to the medication, but her embarrassment over her collapse still haunted her.

She relaxed on a bench at the gym. "How are you still standing?" she asked Kat, who was still bouncing around like she hadn't just spent the past ten hours running around in four-inch heels and a skirt.

"Endurance levels. They build up over time. The stronger you are, the longer you can last." Kat whirled around and unleashed a powerful snap kick to a punching bag.

"She takes it to extremes," Aidan added, holding the bag still. "She sleeps… what… four hours a night?"

"Five." She shook the bag with another kick.

"See?"

"Kat, that can't be healthy," Lisa injected, still a bit uneasy around Aidan. He was a fixture at the gym in the evenings, especially as it got later. The way he acted around her made Lisa wonder if they were partners away from the gym as well as inside it.

"I've been doing it for years. Besides, I eat my veggies."

"You mean… you drink them," Aidan scolded. "V8… what is it… V8 Splash?"

"Fusion."

"Same difference."

Kat backed away from the bag, her forehead slick with sweat. "I'm gonna take off. You got this all under control?" she asked Aidan, tossing her gloves at him.

"How do I set the alarm again?"

She hit him in the face with a glove. "C'mon, Lisa, let's get something to eat."

After a quick shower and a change of clothes, Kat drove them to her place. It was a nice house, set back on a gravel road. Kat pulled around the backside of the house and shut the engine off. "Do you want pizza or subs?" she asked as they walked up to the back door.

"Pizza?" Lisa tried, not really caring either way.

"Pizza it is." She unlocked the door, holding it open for Lisa. She stepped through, moving further into the house while Kat locked back up. "Pepperoni okay?"

Lisa shrugged, setting her purse down on Kat's table. Despite all the time they spent together, this was the first time she'd gone to Kat's house. While Kat was open about her past, she wasn't open about who she really was.

Photographs lined the hallway leading to the living room. More pictures rested on the tables and the mantel over the fireplace. Some were just of Kat, but others showed Kat with a woman who greatly resembled her, possibly her mother, a man with the same blue eyes as Kat, and a teenager with red hair. The ones on the mantel were just of Kat and Aidan.

Just seeing a few pictures gave her more insight into who Kat really was than the past three weeks had.

"We're married, you know," Kat said, her voice echoing in the large living room. "Aidan and I."

Lisa turned around, feeling a bit guilty about prying into her friend's life. "You are?"

"We've been married two years. We dated for almost three years before that."

"You don't wear a ring."

Kat pulled out a familiar chain. "I wear it here. I got used to hiding our relationship. My dad's still not too happy with it. Plus, rings and fighting…" She grimaced.

"Aidan's okay with that?"

"One day we'll announce it. We just… it's not necessary. We know and that's what matters."

Lisa smiled. "Does he live here?"

"Only part-time. He travels a lot. Sometimes it's several states away."

"How did you meet him?"

The corners of Kat's lips lifted in a slight smile as she spoke, spinning a story just as romantic as any tearjerker that Nicholas Sparks wrote—a love story, not a bodice ripper—or any classic romance by Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte, or other now dead authors studied in high school English. Just a hint or two of tragedy to break up the sappiness of a real-life happily ever after.

Aidan managed to save Kat's life during their first meetings. Their courtship was filled with bullets, fights, and other trouble, including when she was abducted by another man. That was the only time, according to Kat, that she ever broke up with Aidan.

"Over time, he just melded into the family. Everyone's gotten used to us dating now. He's a big brother to my sister. She adores him. My dad's still a bit wary, but I think he approves of us being a couple. Being married? No way. No one's good enough to marry me in his mind. And my mom? She's just happy that I let someone into my life," Kat continued as the front door opened.

"Hey, ba—Lisa? What are you doing here?" Aidan called, stepping inside, a bit bewildered.

"Don't worry. She knows."

He visibly relaxed, shutting the door behind him. "Who made pizza?"

"Oh, shit!" Kat ran back into the kitchen, the buzzer going off. A few minutes later, she returned with the pizza. She'd put it inside an old pizza box, probably to help keep it hot. Aidan took the box from her hands, placing it on the coffee table beside a stack of plates and forks.

Kat dove face first into the pizza box, not even bothering to grab a plate. Aidan laughed as she blew on her burned fingers in between bites. Lisa slowly reached for a paper plate, waiting for Kat to abandon the pizza box.

Aidan snatched the box as Kat reached for her third slice. "Don't hog the pizza, Katy! We've got guests."

Scrunching up her face, Kat shot her husband a dirty look.

"Here. You might wanna take two pieces… before piglet snags the box again," Aidan said, holding the open box in Lisa's reach as Kat plopped down beside Aidan, blue eyes on the prize.

"Thanks," Lisa said quietly, taking a slice.

Kat leapt for the box, just to have Aidan snap the lid shut on her hand. She yelped out of surprise, not pain, and soon the pizza was forgotten. Laughter filled the living room, giving Lisa a glimpse of their playful sides.

_I wish I had someone like that. Someone to come home to. Someone who could make me laugh instead of cry…_

* * *

"Shipment comes on… Wednesday… every other… week…" he muttered, jotting down notes. "Head teller works that day with two others."

He tapped the pen on the desk, glancing at the small legal pads full of notes.

Headshots were taped to the wall before him. All of the bank employees were on the wall. A mock schedule hung below it, based on two months of surveillance. The new teller would be the easy new ones were always terrified during a robbery.

He grinned. Now the only problem was the black Audi that frequented the bank. No cop would drive an Audi. A sedan, perhaps. Not an expensive, sporty number. And he wouldn't park across the street and rotate times and locations, even to the point of parking in front of the bank's doors.

As long as it wasn't a cop in the Audi, there was nothing to stop him.

He checked his calendar. Shipment day was only two days away.

Time for one last look at the next location on his hit list.

**Author's Notes:**

Within the next two chapters, Jackson and Lisa will see each other for the first time since the flight—most likely in chapter ten. The action is about to begin so make sure those seatbelts are tight!

Thanks for reading! Please, please leave a review, even just a simple 'please update soon' makes me smile and lights a fire under my butt to type out the next chapter.

I'm almost done with the next two chapters, so there will be a back-to-back update when I finish off chapter ten. It's a tricky chapter. Thanks again to **cypris88!**

**patriot16 -** Thanks for the review! Enjoy!


	10. Chapter Nine: I'm Still Bleeding

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer: ** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Nine**

"_I'm still bleeding…" ~ __**Death of Me**__ by RED_

It began like any normal delivery day. The truck came around ten. Kat greeted the driver, a nice black man named Floyd, and they chatted all the way to the vault and back to the lobby. Lisa and the other day teller, Stacy, picked up the slack. They ran circles around each other, narrowly missing a few collisions, in order to handle both the lobby full of customers and the two drive-thru lanes. The four phones rang non-stop, per usual, sometimes going unanswered.

After the usual lunch rush ended around one, the customers slowed to a trickle. Kat was back on the teller line, just now starting to count the shipment.

"What a crazy day," Kat muttered, unstrapping several packs of twenty dollar bills to run them through the bill counter. Lisa stood beside her, putting fresh bands around the recounted money.

"Yeah, it seems like every single customer needed some insane problem solved besides just a simple deposit or cashed check," Lisa agreed. "And those phones… do they ever stop?"

Kat laughed over the mechanical roar of the counter. "No, never. I think the customers have some sixth sense and prey on us only when we're busy and short-handed. I say just let the damn thing ring."

"At the Lux, we'd never get away with that. We had to answer the phone within three rings, day or night."

"We try, but you know how it is…"

Lisa nodded, glancing out the drive-thru. Thankfully, there weren't any cars in the distance rolling toward the bank. The only car in sight was the black one parked across the road. It'd been there early that morning as well, despite all the closed businesses in the plaza.

She frowned, that sickening prickle on the back of her neck making her skin crawl.

"Hi, how are you?" Stacy greeted behind them.

A grumble, then, "I'd like to get into my safety deposit box."

"Duty calls," Kat said with a sigh. She snatched up a ring of keys for the vault.

Lisa half-smiled at her and returned to strapping the last of the twenty dollar bills. Kat held a lot of responsibilities for someone in her mid-twenties. Only Stacy and one of the night tellers were younger than Kat. It was a rare feat that a teller supervisor would be older than the majority of the people she supervised.

Kat took it all in stride. She had a way with people that helped her soothe ruffled feathers with even the nastiest customer. Then, once they left, she would turn to the other tellers, share a horror story about the customer, and a few snide remarks. But she never said it to customer's face.

Lisa had been like that once. She could still remember the crushing pressure. Jackson freed her from that. It was perhaps the only favor he had ever done for her.

* * *

_Lisa…_

From across the road, he watched her work through binoculars. Her head bent over the counter, her hands busy. That was the Lisa he knew. The dedicated workaholic.

Beside her worked her new friend, Kat. Partners in crime, they were. Kat was easy on the eyes: high heels countered her diminutive stature, stockings ran up slightly muscled legs to the short black skirt she seemed to favor, and a blouse missing several buttons at the top clung to her chest. Sexy and borderline slutty at the same time. More than once he'd gotten an eyeful.

He'd seen the lacy top of her stockings and the snap holding them to a garter belt multiple times. He'd caught a peek down her shirt before—sometimes finding a tank top there, on rare occasions, it was just a bra—and even glimpsed a tattoo on her back when her shirt rode up infrequently.

Lisa never showed much skin. Her skirts were well past her knees, her blouses buttoned up almost to her neck, and she'd become a fan of wearing pants. Stylish and demure: that was his girl. Nothing was on display. Her curves were a secret.

Jackson felt sure that he was the only man to see or touch her breasts aside from her rapist. Kat probably slept with a dozen different men a month. Lisa never even went near a man in public.

Two complete opposites, yet they'd bonded better than sisters.

He set the binoculars down for a moment, stretching inside his car. The Audi was a dream to drive, but a nightmare to conduct surveillance in.

His neck cracked after he loosened his tie.

"Better. Much, much better."

Then, across the road, hell broke loose.

* * *

Kat grabbed her keys, leading the man to the vault's day gate. After a brief struggle with lock, they stepped inside. She went to retrieve his safety deposit box card when a gun cocked. She froze, the sound all too familiar.

"Turn around," he ordered.

She obeyed, her hands up in the air, her keys hanging by her elbow on the stretchy band. Every movement was slow and measured. No surprises.

"Give me everything you've got. Now."

"Okay, just take it easy…" Kat said calmly. Her voice stayed even despite the gun in her face.

"Now!"

The gun kissed her forehead, enhancing his point.

Kat dropped to her knees. "Okay…"

"Open it or I start shooting the others."

After a brief hesitation, Kat spun the combination lock on the safe beside her, the gun barrel shifting to the back of her head. She opened the interior compartment, exposing stacks of money, some wrapped in plastic, others banded together.

He dropped a bag in her lap. "Put it all in there."

Pack after pack of money went into the canvas bag. She started with the lowest denominations, slowly working her way up to the twenty, fifty, and hundred dollar bills. The entire vault was empty of bills when he grabbed the bag from her hands.

Kat moved to get up.

"Did I tell you to move, bitch?"

The gun struck her on the temple, sending her back to the floor. She groaned, her hand coming away bloody, her white blouse stained.

She heard his knees creak as he knelt down. His gun pressed into her stomach, holding her down to the floor. "Move again and I'll shoot you," he threatened. "Then, I'll shoot your friends."

A look in her eyes confirmed her fears. He would shoot her without hesitation. He didn't give a damn if she lived or died. Robbing a federally insured bank was a felony with strict penalties. An armed robbery only raised the penalties. Shooting her wouldn't change much if he was caught.

* * *

Back in the lobby, Lisa finished strapping the shipment. She started to lock it up when Stacy called, "Lisa? Can you grab an inter-office envelope for me?"

"Sure."

Her heels clicked as she went to the supply room. She stared at the shelf, puzzled. Why would Stacy need an inter-office envelope? Each teller kept her own supply—oh…

Stacy didn't really need an envelope. She needed Lisa to hit the alarm.

They were being robbed.

**Author's Notes:**

Dun… dun… dun…

To be continued in the next chapter! I know, so cruel. But Jackson will see Lisa!

Thanks again to my reviewers and **cypris88** for catching my typos. Chapter ten will hopefully be posted by Saturday.


	11. Chapter Ten: Always Said We'd Meet Again

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**WARNING:** There's a brief scene that might unsettling to some readers—it's mild and mostly suggests at a rape—it doesn't detail it too much.

**Chapter Ten**

"_You always said we'd meet again…" ~ __**Mystery of You**__ by RED_

Lisa pushed aside several cardboard file boxes underneath a counter. A small white box was screwed into the underside of the countertop. A button faced her direction. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the silent alarm button. She counted to five, forcing herself to breathe in, before letting go. She'd dealt with petty thief from employees before but never a robbery. Never like this.

Customers stole shampoo bottles, towels, bathrobes, and the occasional coffeemaker. Employees pocketed cash now and then, unaware that their exploits were caught on camera. Lisa made it mandatory to install cameras in guest rooms following a series of incidents were customers threw parties, damaged the room, and then skipped town. Fixing holes in the walls, repainting, replacing broken TVs, chairs, and stained and torn bedding cost the hotel too much. The cameras allowed a quick glance at the room during checkout to ensure there wasn't any damage.

No customers ever tried to hold up a hotel.

She snatched an envelope, just to cover for Stacy, and returned to the teller line. Stacy's customer was still standing there, a hat pulled down low over his eyes. His clothes hung on his frame, purposefully baggy. Gloves covered his hands.

A gun appeared soon after she stepped back behind her drawer.

"Empty your drawer," he ordered, standing between her and Stacy, the gun wavering between the two tellers.

She took the bag he tossed at her, slowly filling it. Beside her, Stacy trembled, her hands up in the air. Her drawer had already been emptied, the bag lying on the counter.

"That too… toss it all in."

Lisa looked at him, then at the shipment still on the back counter. "This?"

"Yes, that! Now!"

She slowly swept it into the bag, cringing a bit. All they had left in the way of money was whatever Kat kept in the back vault. _Where is Kat anyways?_

* * *

Back in the vault, Kat tried not to scream. Her "customer" was a man weighing close to two hundred and fifty pounds, with grey hair to disguise his true features. Out of the two men in the lobby, she ended up with the psycho.

The strange man ripped her skirt along the side seam, exposing her garter belt. He grinned.

Gloved fingers penetrated her. She yelled, the sound caught by his gloved hand.

_Run, run, run! Fight… fight… get away from him…_

"Shut up!" The hand left her mouth, reaching for the gun instead.

He pressed the gun deeper into her stomach, forcing her to be still. The constant threat of being shot in the stomach and dying painfully was all that kept her on the floor. She longed to fight back, but he seemed too trigger happy. If she got shot, she wouldn't be much help to the other tellers. They were in danger. She couldn't risk their lives.

When he reached for a stapler, she wished she had.

* * *

Jackson watched through binoculars as Lisa disappeared with her hands raised in surrender. The other teller followed, Kat nowhere in sight.

He turned the engine on, one hand gripping the steering wheel, as he fumbled with his phone.

It took a moment for the kid to pick up. "Murphy, I need back-up at BankFrederick. There's a robbery in progress. At least one man with a gun. Three tellers are hostage…"

He sped around the corner, his foot lying on the gas pedal. "Yes, yes, I want you to call the cops…"

Static filled his ears. He waited a few seconds. "Murphy? Murphy, did you hear me?"

Jackson gave up and tossed the phone on the passenger seat. There was no way Murphy could make it from his work or even his home in enough time to be of any use. It was all up to him now.

His brakes squealed as he parked diagonally behind a van—most likely the robber's. It would slow down an escape, perhaps buying him just enough time to make a difference. He pulled his knife from his belt, testing the familiar weight.

Lisa belonged to him. No one else could touch her. Her life and death rested in his hands—and his hands only.

* * *

The robber snatched the two bags, slinging them over one shoulder. He kept the gun trained on the two girls, Stacy shivering. Lisa's body was too numb from shock to shake.

"Get over here," he demanded, waving the gun around the teller line.

"It's okay, just… just listen to him…" Lisa whispered, a supportive arm around Stacy. The two walked out the door and into the lobby. The vault was just a few feet away. Kat should be finishing up any minute now. Had she heard the gunman's threats?

"Put your hands back in the air. No funny business or I shoot you in the leg," the robber hissed. "On your knees…"

Lisa let go of her coworker and sank to the marble floor. Her hands were high in the air, well away from her body. Stacy followed her example with a few whimpers. Her slightly rounded belly protruded a bit, hinting at her pregnancy.

"Please… you got what you wanted…" Lisa pleaded. "Just… just let us go."

The gun moved back into her line of sight. "I'm afraid that's not possible."

Lisa didn't close her eyes, as much as she wanted to block it out. She wouldn't make it easy for him. She wouldn't go down like this.

"Oh God, oh God…" Stacy whimpered, shaking.

"Let her go… kill me if you must…" Lisa said. "Kill me… not her."

He just laughed, the gun aimed at her. "Say good-bye…"

Lisa's body betrayed her, the slightest of tremors coursing through it. She wasn't ready to die, but she didn't know what else she could do. One wrong move and the trigger-happy robber might kill her or worse, hit Stacy and her baby.

"Good-bye…" a familiar voice mocked.

She waited for a gunshot that never came. Instead, the robber fell forward, a knife in his back. Just behind the dead man stood another man dressed in jeans and a button-up shirt. A tie hung loosely around his collar.

The stranger knelt over the dead body, retrieving his knife.

Lisa helped Stacy to her feet, the younger girl swaying slightly. She helped her over to one of the armchairs in the lobby. Once Stacy was secure, Lisa turned back to face the man who saved their lives.

"Thank y—"

Two sharp cracks echoed from inside the vault. Gunshots.

_Kat… her customer…_

She spun to look at the vault. "Kat? KAT!"

A strong arm wound around her stomach, pulling her back and away from the vault. She struggled in the tight grip, the world going silent. She knew she was screaming, but she couldn't hear it. All she knew was that when the vault door opened, it wasn't Kat who walked out.

It should've been a customer, but judging by the bag in his hand, he worked with the dead robber. He carried a gun, the barrel still smoking a bit.

Time slowed for Lisa. Her best friend, her only friend, was dead.

* * *

Jackson didn't do much after taking down the other robber. His knife moved faster than the man could raise the gun. After a discharge into the ceiling, the other robber fell to the floor, his heart pumping out the rest of his blood.

He stood watch over the dead men while Lisa ran to the vault, determined to find her friend. The other teller didn't bother getting out of her chair. He brought her a glass of water to soothe her nerves.

Police and FBI agents secured the bank around the same time that the paramedics arrived.

Their first act was to separate the witnesses while the paramedics went into the vault. Lisa just missed seeing his face several times, mostly thanks to Stacy's hysterics. While they were interviewed, Lisa was kept in a closed office, unable to see him. His statement was brief, to the point, and his knife confiscated. Luckily, he'd worn gloves, keeping his fingerprints to himself.

"I've never seen him before," Lisa said, her voice carrying a few feet away. The office door opened, exposing his back to her.

"What about the man with the knife?"

Jackson's blood ran cold. Even with the changes he made, Lisa would still know him in a heartbeat, especially after the knife. She'd scream bloody murder and get him arrested.

Yet he knew if he hadn't stepped in to deal with the first robber, all three tellers would've left the scene in body bags. It was a miracle no one else had been inside the bank. No other customers or desk-side people were left in the building when the robbery went down. The managers would be written up for neglecting their duties instead of suffering the consequences.

Not even Lisa suffered. According to preliminary reports, Kat took the majority of the brutality from the robbers.

Of course, both robbers weren't talking. A quick slash across the throat had incapacitated the second robber. He deserved death for upsetting Lisa.

"He's with us," Murphy's familiar voice called. He flashed a badge, stepping between Jackson and Lisa smoothly. Pearson guided Jackson outside, leaving his buddy to handle the cops and his cover story.

"Murphy's got it. Just stay here. They'll ask you a few questions, then you need to get the hell out of here, okay? What were you thinking?" Pearson demanded outside the bank.

"Lisa needed—"

"It doesn't matter now. Just follow Murphy's lead, okay? Then get gone. You didn't leave any fingerprints, did you?"

"No… just the knife."

"Standard issue or special?"

"Special. KA-BAR."

"I'll take care of it."

Pearson went back into the bank, leaving Jackson by his Audi. His instincts told him to get in the car and leave. Except he couldn't leave. Not with Lisa still there. Bloody, exhausted, and her usually perfect outfit rumbled and ruined. She hadn't looked so irresistible since the red eye flight.

Murphy solved his quandary as Kat's body was loaded into the ambulance. The FBI granted him clearance to leave the scene. Murphy did everything except drive Jackson off the property before climbing in the back of the ambulance.

Inquisitive reporters and a mismatched mob of looky loos arrived on the scene. Pulling a pair of sunglasses on, Jackson started the Audi. He already knew Lisa's next move. He would just beat her to it.

* * *

"Room 116?" Lisa asked a nurse, a visitor placard hanging around her neck. The nurse gestured down a hallway.

She thanked her with a smile and took off, wobbling on unsteady legs. It didn't matter to her that she looked like she'd just left the set of a horror film covered in fake blood. Not when Kat could be dead.

Lisa pushed the door open, stopping short at the sight of her friend hooked to machines. Aidan, ever the attentive husband, sat at her bedside, one pale hand held tight in his. Her chest moved a bit with each breath, a heart monitor checking her pulse.

"How is she?"

Aidan looked up, not letting go of her hand. "Alive… just barely. She was shot twice. Broken ribs, internal bleeding… she should be dead. Not to mention all the staples he shot in her limps before he… he raped her with it. Left it lodged inside…"

"She's a fighter," Lisa said softly, giving him a half-smile. "She'll pull through. She has to."

"Why did he shoot her?"

"No one knows. He's dead."

"I wished I'd killed that son of a bitch. Made him suffer. Choke on his own blood…" Aidan's voice changed, becoming almost a growl. Lisa took a step back, afraid of him for the first time.

The door opened without a squeak behind her.

"She has to live," he insisted.

She nodded, stepping back again, only to hit a solid figure.

"Oh, I'm so sor—Jackson?"

"Hello, Leese."

She stopped dead, shock freezing her limbs. There he was, leaning on a sleek cane, dressed down in jeans and a button-down shirt. His blue eyes were gone, replaced with neutral brown contacts, and his shaggy hair trimmed. He looked like a whole new person.

"Still speechless, huh, Leese?" He limped forward, a smirk crossing his face. "You have that deer-in-the-headlights look down. Now close your mouth before you swallow a fly…"

"You—you're dead!"

Jackson looked at himself then over at Aidan. "Do I look dead, Murphy?"

"Murphy? Wait… you know each other?"

"Lisa, it's not—" Aidan tried to interrupt.

"You know each other?" she repeated, stepping back toward the window, trying to find some space between the two men. She trusted Aidan, yet here he was, friends with her worst enemy.

"Murphy and I work together." Jackson limped forward.

"You… you were at the bank, weren't you?"

She pressed her back against the wall, eying the door. All she needed to do was get through that door, find a security guard or a nurse, and call the police. And them… tell them what? That a dead terrorist was in her friend's room? That he'd stalked her five states away when she fled?

_They'd toss me in a padded room… he's counting on it. That's why he's so smug. He knows I'm helpless. I'm the one who can run, yet he holds all the power. _

"Yes, yes I was. Did you miss me?" The cane tapped on the linoleum floor.

"Give me a gun and I'll make sure I find your heart this time."

"Still a coldblooded bitch, huh, Leese?"

She inched toward the door. "Only around you."

"Listen, if you're gonna kill each other… can you do it in the hallway?" Aidan interrupted. "I don't think Kat wants to hear the two of you rip each other to shreds."

"Why… why does that matter?" Lisa asked, eyeing Jackson and Aidan.

"She's friends with both of you."

_Friends? Kat was friends…with him? No fucking way._

"Jackson isn't who you think he is," Aidan began. "He's a good—"

"He's a killer! He tried to kill me, my father, and an entire family!" Lisa raged.

"Lisa—"

"Get away from me!"

She shoved Jackson aside, taking off into the hallway. Lisa made it about three steps before hitting the floor. Her shoe's heel snapped in half. She yanked it off, tossing the other shoe beside it. In her torn stockings, she broke into a run, instinct telling her to get as far away from Jackson as she could.

Lisa didn't stop running until she made it to her car. She locked the door, half-expecting Jackson's face to show up on the other side of the glass, his fists banging on the window. He never came.

She gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles turning white. Her breaths came in gasps, her body on the verge of a panic attack. It took all her willpower to drive her car and not purposefully ram it into a tree.

Once Lisa was inside her townhouse, she locked the door, sank to the floor, and started to cry. She cried for her friend, for Stacy, and for herself. Jackson had found her again and she feared he would make good on his threats to kill her.

_But why would he save me? Why kill the robbers? Why not let them kill me? Why can't you just leave me alone?_

**Author's Notes:**

And they finally meet! Please, please leave a review. I'd love to hear everyone's thoughts on their first meeting!

Many, many, MANY thanks to **cypris88**! I couldn't have done this without your input!


	12. Chapter Eleven: Keep Me Without Chains

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except for Kat, Aidan, Carter, and that crazy gang.

**Chapter Eleven**

"_You keep me without chains…" ~ __**Gravity**__ by Sara Bareilles_

The next time Lisa went to check on her friend, Jackson wasn't lurking around the hospital waiting for her. Only Aidan and a few members of Kat's family were there.

She slowly stepped into the room, ready to bolt at any moment.

"I didn't think you were coming back," Aidan said quietly, stepping away from his prone wife for a moment. Kat's younger sister, a petite teenager, took his spot, even curling up on the bed beside her sister.

"I couldn't leave her," she admitted, glancing at the monitors. "How is she?"

"No major changes. She's healing from the blood loss slowly. The doctors say she should wake up soon."

"That's good. I don't think she's ever been this still in her life."

Aidan cracked a smile. "No, even when she sleeps… she never stops moving. She steals the covers, kicks me, hits me, and rolls around and around and around."

She looked over at the bed again. "How does she know… you know...?"

"Jackson? He's a family friend. After the mess in Miami, Carter took him in. Patched him up and everything. He saved Carter's life once. That's all it took for Kat. She's a daddy's girl."

"Where is her dad?"

"Miami. He's, uh, finishing a few things down there." He shifted a bit, clearly dodging her question.

"He didn't run up here? Kat could've died!"

"Kat will forgive him. She always does," Aidan said with a sigh. "She never blames him for anything. She loves her dad. And what's going on—it couldn't wait. She understands that."

"Is Mr. Carter… is he like Jackson?"

Aidan motioned for her to take a seat on a chair. He sat across from her. "Jim Carter is like Jackson, but that was ages ago. Kat was only a kid back then. Carter doesn't handle assassinations anymore. He's got better stuff to do. He would never take on a hit like the Keefe assassination. That was a disaster."

"You're saying Kat's father is a killer like Jackson… and she's okay with that?"

He shook his head. "No, no… Kat accepts who he was. She doesn't encourage killing if that's what you think."

"But she's friends with him!"

_Did I even know her at all or was she some part of sick, twisted game? Did Jackson put her up to this?_

"Kat's damaged, okay? Carter was the first person she learned to trust. He helped save her. Jackson helped Carter several years back. She trusts him because of his connection to her dad. That doesn't mean she condones what they did."

Lisa stood up, starting to pace. "Maybe I should just kill someone. We're all killers here, right?"

"No. You're not a killer, Lisa. You're like Kimmy… Kat's sister. Sweet and non-violent…"

She had to snort at that, remembering Jackson's cane. _Non-violent, my ass…_

Lisa relaxed further in the chair, starting to see a new side of her friend. Kat made life look easy. She had a busy career, volunteered and helped others at the gym, and a loving husband. But the truth was very different than the public façade Kat wore.

Kat's true passion lay in her volunteer work, not the bank job. Her husband traveled all the time and their marriage was a secret to most people. Her father killed people and consorted with killers—or at least with the likes of Jackson Rippner.

The Carters seemed to be a close-knit family. They might be full of secrets, yet they were full of love.

"Call me if anything changes, okay? I should… I have…" Lisa stood up. Her best friend was in a coma and here she was, prying into her life. It didn't feel right.

"Lisa, about Jackson—"

"No, it's fine—"

"He's changed. He's not the man that terrorized you in Miami. That wasn't him—it was the job. He's really—"

She clutched her purse. "Stop. Just… stop. I… I can't…"

"He won't admit it, but he does care about you. You're the only person, aside from Kat, to stand up to him. But Kat… she's like a kid sister to him, not a rival like you. That's why he went into the bank—"

"Aidan, I'm sure he appreciates what you're trying to do here—"

"He doesn't know, Lisa. He'd tell me to bug off if he knew. I just think you deserve to know the truth about him."

"What truth?"

"Jackson is not much different from Kat. Or, at least, his past isn't."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Jackson returned home to his townhouse alone. He checked the cameras on his computer only to see that Lisa was still out. That surprised him, given her reaction at the hospital. Usually she ran home and hid.

Today had been full of surprises. From the robbery, Lynn's injuries, and seeing Lisa… touching her again.

He stripped out of his blood-spattered clothes from the robbery. Piece by piece, he fed them into the fire place. They were ruined beyond help, as were many old outfits from jobs. He destroyed all of them except for the suit he wore on his fateful day with Lisa. He even kept that blasted scarf.

But not the pen. No, no, he'd left that back on the plane.

Since Lisa knew of his presence, sending her any mementos of their time together would lose their effectiveness. He would save them for another time and place.

He lit a match and held it to his clothes, watching the flame lick away the fabric. It reminded him of how fragile life was.

Of all the people he knew, he never would've expected to find Jim's daughter lying in a hospital bed thanks to a random robbery. She called herself Lynn when they first met. When Jackson moved to Frederick, he learned that her real name was Katherine Lynn Murphy. Her co-workers only knew her as Kat Carter. None of them knew about the connection to Jim Carter or to her husband.

The irony of Lisa's best friend being related to a killer like him made Jackson smile. After the events of that day, he needed a bit of lightness.

A week ago, he had sat in front of his computer, plotting Lisa's death. But today, inside the bank, when he saw that man with a gun aimed at her head, Jackson realized he wasn't quite ready for her to die. Before he knew it, he'd stabbed and killed that man.

He swore to kill Lisa. One of these days he would have to make good on it.

_There's nothing wrong with watching and waiting for the perfect moment. Besides, Lisa's not going away while Kat's in the hospital. She's too damn loyal. _

He just hoped Katherine pulled through, for Lisa and Murphy's sake. She deserved a friend. Kat needed to live for Lisa. Her husband cared about her as well, and Jackson knew her father would never get over her death.

_Kat will pull through… she has to… she's too damn stubborn._

*~*~*~*~*~*

"How is she?" Jim Carter called, stepping into the hospital room.

"Hanging in there. She's tough… like you," Aidan said softly, not taking his eyes off Kat's still figure.

"What happened?"

"The bank was robbed. Two gunmen. One pretended to be a customer and took Kat into the vault. He… raped her, Carter."

Jim's face turned into a scowl. "And the gunshots?"

"Healing. Both bullets were recovered. It's just a matter of time."

"She'll wake up then?"

"Once her brain feels ready, she will. She gets stronger every day." Aidan touched her hair, detangling it with his fingers. "She knows we're worried."

Jim took up one of the extra chairs in the room. "The bastard who did this, he's dead, right?"

"Jackson slit his throat."

"And the friend… Lara?"

"Lisa," Aidan corrected. "Lisa saved her life. She kept the blood loss controlled. She's very shook up."

"Lisa… she's not Jackson's Lisa, is she?"

"The one and the same."

*~*~*~*~*~*

During the drive back to her townhouse, Lisa tried to understand and deal with the idea of Jackson Rippner, assassination manager, ever being a human being. Being a child with rotten luck and worse parents. The way Aidan told it, Jackson was lucky to survive, not to mention stay out of jail and away from drugs.

The cold-blooded killer had a heart once—until his parents stomped it out.

Kat, in her bleeding-heart wisdom, accepted Jackson as a friend. Someone who made bad choices for the right reasons. Jackson was a good man in search of redemption.

Right?

He did save her life, and Stacy's. Not to mention visiting Kat. He cared about her—a side that she rarely saw except for a slight hint of guilt at killing Keefe's kids and inside the cramped bathroom on the plane.

Lisa pulled into her garage and shut off the engine. Jackson might be human, and he might have saved lives, but that didn't mean he wasn't a killer. It didn't mean he'd changed overnight. He might never change.

But she had. Because of what he did and what the rapist before him did, Lisa went from a naive fresh-faced college student to a timid young woman to the confidant woman she was now. Jackson forced the final change.

And now, the robbery forced her to remain calm and professional. Stacy leaned on her. Even though the bank had put her on temporary leave while they got the bank patched up and the police investigated. Stacy was on leave as well—possibly until her maternity leave kicked in. The other tellers and management personal were filling in at other branches.

She dropped her purse and keys on her front table before kicking her shoes off. Lisa landed face first on her couch, curling up with her face smushed in a throw pillow.

_Please… just let Kat wake up. I need her. She knows more about Jackson than I do._

**Author's Notes:**

Sorry this took so long to get up! This is the rewritten version and I hope it makes sense, especially since I didn't run it by my wonderful beta. Thank you so much for all the wonderful comments! This chapter is mainly just to pass a bit of time and see what our main characters are up to. In the next chapter, we'll see what happens when Kat wakes up.

Thanks and please review!


	13. Chapter Twelve: Nothing

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except for Kat, Aidan, Carter, and that crazy gang.

**Chapter Twelve**

"_Nothing to win, nothing to lose…" ~ __**Free**__ by VAST_

The world was a loud, bright place when Kat Murphy awoke with a tube in her throat and a hand clinging tightly to hers. Gagging, her arms flailed, the bond breaking, while other tubes and wires tugged at her skin.

"Katy? Katy, hold still," her husband said, his left hand on her shoulder. He pushed her back on the bed.

Aidan pulled the feeding tube out of her trachea, letting her cough and swallow without the tube. He stroked her messy hair, bracing her back with his arm as she cleared her throat. He handed her a small cup of water, letting her have a few sips.

"Aidan?" Her voice was still rough.

"Don't worry, everyone's okay. They're fine."

"That man…"

"Ssh," he soothed, the calm tone he often used with patients back when he was a paramedic filling her ears. "He's dead. Jackson got him."

"Jack? He was there?"

"He took care of the robbers. Lisa's fine. Stacy, too."

"Jack… he went inside?"

Aidan nodded. "Jackson came back for Lisa. He called me. He got there just in time."

"Police?"

"They came. I vouched for him. He's at home, resting his bum leg." He played with her curls, twirling them around his finger. "Lisa's at home, recuperating. Stacy's on leave. Her baby's fine."

Aidan sat up on the edge of the bed. Kat curled into his chest, laying her head over his heart. He kissed her scalp, holding her close. Her stitches tugged at her skin, protesting.

"Take it easy," he ordered, helping her lay flat on the bed. "Easy on the stitches, Katy."

He squeezed her hand, reminding her that he was still there. That he'd been there the entire time.

"How long?" she whispered.

"A week. Give or take a day or two."

Kat moved to sit up again. "I need—"

"What you need to do is rest, baby. You were shot twice."

She frowned. "He shot me?"

Aidan traced the outlines of the bandages. "Yes, he did. Katy, did you know…?"

"Know what?" She met his hazel eyes, his hand lingering on her stomach, bandage and all.

"Don't worry about it."

He leaned back, shifting into his seat. She knew something wasn't right. She could tell, especially since he was withdrawing from her. That meant he was lying.

Images danced in her head. _Her key ring slid down her elbow as she let the suited customer into the vault. Her hand reached for the safety deposit box cards. The gun appeared before her._

_Her back hit the carpeting, her cheek on fire. A staple struck her arm, reminding her of a needle. The stapler…_

Kat gasped for air, her blue eyes wide.

"Katy, it's okay. I'm here, Katy. Look at me, baby…"

Aidan's hand cupped her cold cheek. "I'm here. Talk to me…"

"He… he… the stapler…"

"Ssh, I know. I know."

"You still love me?"

Sadness filled her husband's eyes. He didn't look away from her this time. "Of course, I don't blame you—I never could. I love you, Kat. No one can change that."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart…"

"…and hope to die," she finished, touching his heart. His grubby t-shirt covered a nasty scar over his heart. The old wound there was part of the bond between them. It tied them together more than wedding rings would.

More than her father would allow. Carter valued Aidan as an employee, and often treated him like a son, but he was suspicious of their relationship. While Aidan was acceptable as an employee and surrogate son, Carter didn't think he was good enough to marry Kat.

Not that Kat cared. He loved her and that's all that mattered to her.

"Rest, honey. I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

The bank reopened a month and a half after Kat woke up from her coma. Stacy went on maternity leave early since she was still too jumpy to set foot inside the remodel branch. Only Lisa returned on the first day.

After spending the past six weeks in her townhouse, leaving only for food and to visit Kat, being back out in the real world was a shock. She'd fallen back into her old routine of daytime television, books, and just avoiding the outside world. Lisa felt safe inside her townhouse. It was only place she felt safe, now that Jackson was in the area. Avoiding him was the only way she could handle her current situation.

What struck her first was the cleanliness of the entire bank. Sure, they had a nightly cleaning crew, but the cleaners did a bad job. Dust routinely covered surfaces, especially behind the teller line, the safety deposit room was never cleaned, and the windows—the windows were always disgusting. Another teller, Christina, cleaned the drive-thru windows every so often just so they could squint at the customers.

Every surface shone. She could see her face in the marble floor, the counters… there wasn't a speck of dust anywhere. Even in the far corners of the back room, the bank was clean. There was no fingerprint dust, which she'd seen applied to the front counters, the doors, and every surface near the robbers. The vault had fresh carpeting and fresh paint. The copious amounts of copper blood Kat spilled were gone, removed, scrubbed, and painted over by a cleaning crew.

The robbers' blood no longer existed either. It only existed in her memory and crime scene photos now.

Lisa's fingers traced the back of the chair Stacy sat in just before their near-execution. She was still in that chair when Jackson Rippner walked—or, rather, limped—into the bank and saved their lives. His quick action took both robbers out of the picture, leaving her to tend to Kat.

She picked up a ring of keys. The lime green coil still had a few flecks of its owner's blood scattered on it and the keys despite a through scrubbing. Kat's keys belonged to Lisa now—at least until Kat was well enough to return.

According to Aidan, Kat still only remembered bits and pieces of the robbery. Her main hang-up was dealing with the loss of her own baby—a twelve week old embryo growing in her uterus—that she lost after the second shot. Kat never even knew about her pregnancy until it was over.

Lisa walked behind the teller line to her drawer. She settled into her chair, her shoulders hunched forward, enjoy those first few moments of silence before the doors opened. Those last few moments of sanity. Of clarity.

BankFrederick's first customer that day stepped through the glass doors a few minutes later. Her shoulders straightened up, she stepped off her chair, and put on her best smile.

"Hi, welcome to BankFreder—What the hell are you doing here?"

**Author's Notes:**

I know it's a short chapter but it's mainly to catch up on what's happened. So many readers were curious about Kat that it felt right focusing on her waking up and then Lisa returning to work. All she did during the time she had off was visit Kat and mope around her townhouse thinking about Jackson.

Many thanks to **cypris88!**


	14. Chapter Thirteen: You Hit Me Back

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except for Kat, Aidan, Carter, and that crazy gang.

**Chapter Thirteen**

"_I hit you and you hit me back/We fall to the floor, the rest of the day stands still/Fine line between this and that/When things go wrong, I pretend the past isn't real…" ~ __**With You**__ by Linkin Park_

"Hello, Leese. Beautiful morning isn't it?"

Just a few feet away, behind a counter full of slips that separated the front doors from the teller line and delineated the beginning of the line for help, was Jackson Rippner complete with his slick cane and familiar smirk.

"If you say so," Lisa snarled. "What do you want?"

"Is that any way to address a co-worker? Where did you get your business degree?"

He stopped just on the other side of the counter, just a foot of marble countertop separating them.

"You're not a co-worker. You're slime—"

"No, no." He passed over a paper. "I was due to join your ranks before all this…" he paused to gesture around the bank, "went down. Katherine arranged it."

"Kat's not here."

"I know. And you're down… what, three tellers?" His cold eyes raked over the empty teller line. Christina was down at the other end, dealing with a customer.

"Is there a problem, sir?" called Veronica, the manager.

Jackson flipped on a smile and turned on the charm, reminding Lisa of how he treated the flight attendants. He faced the manager. "No, not at all. I was just introducing myself to…" He glanced back at her, pretending to squint at her name tag. "Lee…sa."

"Oh, it's you, Mr. Jackson. I forget you were starting today." Veronica batted her eyelashes, flirting back. "Let me show you around and introduce you to everyone."

"Actually, if you don't mind, Ms. Strauss, Lee…sa already offered," he said, still stressing her name.

Behind the counter, Lisa's hands balled into fists. _Where do you get off screwing around with my life? How the hell did you get a job here? _

"Oh, in that case, Lisa, Mr. Jackson is assigned to drawer 1009. If you need anything, Mr. Jackson, I'll be in my office."

A quick turn on her heel and Veronica slithered back into her cave. Lisa just wished she'd dragged Jackson with her.

"_Mr._ Jackson?" Lisa raised her eyebrow at him.

He stuck a hand out to shake. "Tom Jackson, Miss…?"

She didn't respond or take his hand. "Come around the side, Jack."

* * *

When Kat first suggested to him that he work at the bank, less than a week before the robbery, Jackson had thought she was insane.

"Me? At a bank?"

"Why not? You can count, right?" Kat asked, both of them standing in her sunny kitchen. The yellow walls had a sunflower border running across the top of the room. The light blue café-styled curtains blew in the breeze. She mixed a bowl of cake batter, her fingers speckled white.

"I can, but Lisa—"

"Don't worry… I won't let her stab you with a letter opener."

The smile she gave him did little to reassure him. That was typical Kat. Her twisted sense of humor did little to help him trust her. Of course, she possessed the same sarcastic side as her father. Jackson never knew if she was joking or being serious with him.

"Thanks, Kat."

"Anytime." She licked her finger, then proceeded to pour the batter into a pan. After sliding it inside the oven, Kat turned her attention to the bowl. The petite girl licked the bowl like a little girl, determined to get every morsel she could find.

If Jackson had a thing for young girls, he might have been rather turned on. But he wasn't.

The door banged open, Aidan coming in with his arms full. He set the box down on the kitchen island, where Jackson sat on a bar stool, and pulled his wife into his arms. Aidan kissed her, licking the batter off her nose. She giggled.

It was sweet—and sickening at the same time.

"How was work? Kill anybody today?" Kat asked, still focused on her husband. Neither seemed eager to step away.

"I thought that was my line."

"Nice try." She nipped his lip. "Seriously, how was work?"

"Boring. How was your day off?"

"I'm making cake. Oh, and Jackson's going to work at the bank with me."

"No, Jackson's not," he interrupted on his own behalf. He needed to stop them before Aidan put her on the counter and they fucked.

That broke their trance. Both Murphys turned to face him.

"Why not?" Kat's voice turned into a childish wine to match her appearance.

"Lisa would never go for it," Jackson stated.

"Well, I'm hiring you. You can be our… security guard."

Aidan snorted. "Yeah, and he can hit robbers over the head with his cane."

"Actually, robbers aren't scared of security guards. Well, not all of them," Kat said, her nose scrunched up a bit. "I was thinking… how about being a teller? A guard in disguise?"

Aidan laughed for a moment. "You're—you're serious about this, Katy? You want Jackson to pretend to be a teller… but he's really a guard? It's about time you got a bodyguard, but—"

Kat popped him in the shoulder. "Funny, very funny. If you must know, I think it would do Lisa good to see him again."

"Until she kills me," Jackson added.

"That too. But that would make her feel good."

* * *

Kat shot upright in the bed she shared with her husband. She swung her legs over the side before Aidan grabbed her arm.

"What's wrong, babe? Bad dreams?"

"Lisa… Jackson's starting today. I forgot to tell her—"

"Katy, it's 9:45. It's too late. Just come back to bed. You need to rest. You've been through a lot…"

She pulled away from his arms, stepping across the bedroom, her silk nightgown trailing the ground a bit as she walked. She threw open the closet doors, reaching for a loose-fitting dress.

Aidan took the hanger out of her hand. "Don't do this, Kat. It's too soon."

"If I don't, they might kill each other. I just put two caged tigers in a small space with no warning and lots of weapons."

"If you step into the middle of this, you could get killed. Kat, you lost a lot of blood. Gunshots take time to heal—"

"I'm going," she said, already wobbling on her weak legs.

Aidan put an arm around her, supporting her weight. "Katy, no. If you want, I'll go. But you stay in the car or you stay here."

"Fine, but hurry."

He wrapped her in his jacket before scooping her up. "Okay, okay. We're going…"

* * *

The idea of working side-by-side with Lisa increased in appeal over time. After the robbery, it became crystal-clear that the bank needed security and hired muscle would be a target. Not that it stopped the police from assigning an officer to watch over the customers and tellers in the lobby. He even kept his squad car parked directly out front.

Jackson walked around the side, passing through a swinging door, and stopped before a door with an electronic lock. The door opened, Lisa's pissed face inches away.

"Come in. I'll tell you the combination later. Not that you need it."

She let go of door handle, simultaneously kicking it shut with her foot. Jackson reacted at the same time, his cane lodged in a tiny crack between the frame and the heavy door.

"Thanks for holding the door, Leese," he taunted, limping inside. The teller line was a bit wider than an aisle on the cramped passenger jet they'd spent the most important hours of their lives inside. The carpeting was well-worn despite the spruced-up lobby. The cabinets were sloppily painted over, the Formica-topped counters clipped in many places—the marble ended midway between the tellers and customers, and the chairs stained and rough around the arm rests from collisions with the counter—or a sharp knife. He couldn't tell yet.

She ignored the jab, walking—make that stalking—to the far end of the teller line. He watched her hips sway, his eyes tracing the lines of her body. Delicious curves and toned flesh. This was the Lisa he viewed in old photographs. This was the Lisa he wanted.

The one with daggers for eyes.

"This is your station. Keep it clean. Top drawer is for your teller drawer. The second drawer is for strapped money or large bills—your choice—and the bottom is your coin vault. The other drawers are for whatever you want—except porn," she warned. "I'll get your keys."

Jackson settled into the cushioned chair, watching Lisa disappear through the door, presumably off to the vault or, more likely, to the bathroom for a breakdown.

* * *

"So, what's the story with Mr. Gorgeous? I didn't know we were getting a new teller—not to mention one like him," Christina inquired, enjoying her morning yogurt in the break room/kitchen when Lisa walked in for a sip of water.

"I didn't either. Kat never said anything," Lisa admitted, reaching for a paper cup.

"Man, he's hot. I'd take him to the back room and fuck him if the cameras weren't there."

"Tina, you'd do it on camera in a heartbeat."

"That's right. I've done it before." She licked her spoon, grinning at Lisa. "So, do you want him? I mean, you saw him first…"

"No, no. You go ahead. I insist."

"Don't mind if I do." Christina tossed away the remains of her yogurt, skipping off like a schoolgirl for a moment before setting foot in the lobby. She turned back into a professional mode—at least what would be professional for a slutty secretary.

Lisa sank into one of the plastic chairs, her entire body feeling heavy. Not only did she owe Jackson her life, but now he'd invaded her private world. She shuddered; feeling violated. She hated the way he stripped her with his eyes. Even though a murky brown covered the ice blue, she could still see the same dangerous edge; the same coldness.

A monster lurked inside Jackson, despite what Aidan said about his rough childhood. Maybe he'd once been a human being, but she couldn't see it.

All she saw was the hate in his eyes as he circled her like a shark in her father's kitchen.

**Author's Notes: **

We're almost to the main part of the story now—within the next two chapters, a major incident will occur and it will throw Lisa and Jackson together. It is a direct result of the robbery—I can say that much. And it's going to put Jackson in a different position than before.

Anyways, thanks again for all the reviews and **cypris88**'s betaing!

Also, check out the song used at the top of the chapter. It's one of my favorites and you can really see Jackson and Lisa, or at least I can. Enjoy!


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Tell the Truth

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except for Kat, Aidan, Carter, and that crazy gang.

**Chapter Fourteen**

"_But how long before you tell the truth…?" ~ __**Supermassive Black Hole**__ by Muse_

Jackson settled into his station, staring at a variety of colored papers, some that he recognized from being a customer, and many that he didn't. They had words like "General Ledger Debit", "Loan Payment in Process", "Money Order", "Special Funds", and "Cash In" printed on the tops. The candy-store colors made him a bit nauseous, yet the titles were self-explanatory for the most part. That was until he pulled one out, stared at all the blank lines, and shook his head. He had no training as a teller—why Kat assumed he could pick up the job was a mystery to him.

Then Lisa reappeared. She'd composed herself a bit, minus the scowl permanently attached to otherwise pretty face.

A ring of keys clattered onto the Formica counter between them. "Those are yours. You'll get a door key in three weeks, provided you still work here."

"Thanks, Le… sa," he taunted, knowing that the partial nickname irritated her.

"Go to hell, Jack."

She turned to walk away. "Aren't you supposed to show me what to do?"

Lisa spun back around, hatred written clearly upon her face. She reached for a small legal pad and a pen. She scrawled down a few things. "This is the password for the computer, your login number, and your teller number, in case you've already forgotten it."

He took the pad. "Cute. Now, what am I supposed to do with these?" Jackson held up the keys, playing the fool. "Shouldn't I have money? This is a bank, right?"

"It is." She snatched the keys. "Follow."

With a grin, Jackson limped after her to the workroom. She punched a code into a vault door, waited for a set of beeps, then turned the long handle to crack the safe open. Inside were several metal slots with teller numbers written on them and key holes.

"You're 1009. Go ahead… get your drawer."

Jackson stepped in front of her, the keys in his hands. It took a few tries to find the right key, especially since Lisa was of no help. She just stood there, her heeled shoe tapping on the linoleum floor.

He opened the slot and withdrew a tan tray.

"That's your drawer. There's money inside."

He hobbled backed to his station, his cane left in the back room. He couldn't steady the drawer, open the door, and deal with his keys along with the cane.

"Sign in, count your drawer, lock your drawer, and then come see me," Lisa ordered, hurrying off to help another teller who was signaling her with a cry of "Override!"

He plopped the drawer on top of the counter and reached for his key ring again. This was already getting old and he hadn't even attempted to power on the computer yet.

"Damn keys," he muttered, trying six keys in the top lock of the drawer before finding the right one. He popped the metal lid off and set it down on the floor underneath the counter. He lifted the drawer, several pounds lighter without the lid, and settled it into a pullout drawer at his station.

Jackson played with his keys again, trying to figure out which one would secure the drawer in place.

It was the third key in this time.

He left the keys dangling from the lock as he logged into the computer system. Following Lisa's scribbled instructions, he located the iBanking program. Another login screen popped up, prompting him to key in his user code and passwords.

After a solid twenty minutes of fiddling with the computer, Jackson finally ended up logged in.

"Count," he muttered, playing with the tools on the top bar of the program. He finally found the cash count and started to fill in the blanks. It was a painstakingly slow process for him. He'd never felt clumsy in his life until he started counted bills. The twenties in particular gave him trouble. The hundreds and fifties were usually what he was paid in—when the money wasn't wired to his account.

Jackson sighed, reaching for the fives. He counted the loose bills before reaching for the strap of fives underneath it. He slipped the strap off and began thumbing through the bills.

Suddenly, a cloud of red dust enveloped him as the pack of bills exploded.

He backed away, sputtering and coughing as the dust, a dye almost, filled his mouth and eyes.

Giggles erupted behind the teller line. "Aww, he's all red!" one teller said.

Through the haze, he could see Lisa. "I forgot to warn you about the dye pack. My bad. Let's get you outside," she said, putting a hand on his arm and leading him. He couldn't really see. Instead, he had to trust Lisa wouldn't lead him straight into a wall.

Not that it would surprise him if she did. She'd let him make a dye pack explode. She just let him set off the pack, soaking himself in dye and some type of spray, most likely pepper spray, without any warning.

The bank seemed to be hazardous to his suits. First, blood, now dye.

* * *

Seeing Jackson Rippner, former manager, covered in red dye from a theft-deterrent pack made Lisa's day—no, make that her _year_.

It took all of her self-control not to burst out laughing at him. His dark suit was stained, his new tie now a dyed mess of black and red, and his suit streaked with the red. It was almost like blood, except it wasn't a coppery color.

He coughed, clearly having swallowed some of the dye. She could only imagine the disgusting, bitter taste filling her mouth. She had a feeling that the pepper spray additive burned like sandpaper.

Lisa felt a rush of sympathy for him. He did look pathetic, blinded by the dye and the pepper spray additive. Any other teller would have been screaming and jumping because of the pack explosion. Not Jackson. He just stood there, trying to blink his eyes.

Before she thought about it, she led Jackson outside, not even trying to trip him, and tried to brush some of the dust off him. But it did little to stop him from coughing. Instead, she stripped him of his jacket and shirt, using the clean inside of it to wipe at his eyes.

"Leese?" he choked, sounding shocked as she cleared his eyes a bit.

"Clean yourself up." She tossed him the shirt-turned-rag.

Lisa headed back into the bank, opening the doors on her way. They would need to close for the day, giving the building a chance to air out after the dye pack detonation. Dealing with Jackson Rippner would wait another day.

* * *

A printout landed on the clean desk. A man looked up, one hand holding a phone to his ear while he spoke in rapid-fire Russian.

In black-and-white, a photograph of Jackson Rippner stared up at him. There was a time stamp in the corner dated a month-and-half before. That bastard was still alive.

The fine print of the document read 'BankFrederick, Frederick, MD'.

He hung up the phone.

Further down on the paper was a photograph of his accomplice, Miss Lisa Reisert, formerly of Miami, Florida. It was the same date, just a different time. And she had her hands raised in the air.

He stared at the pictures, taken mere minutes apart. One with a wicked knife in Rippner's hand and the other, his accomplice with her hands held up in surrender. The Reisert girl helped him escape and destroy the perfect crime. Removing the Keefe family was an easy job. The clean-up for it was just as simple.

A suicide note was already written out for Lisa Reisert before she set foot on the red-eye to Miami. It concerned her fatal plot for Charles Keefe, blaming it on an affair they had, before he broke it off. Rather than go to prison, she died with her new lover—Jackson Rippner. They'd orchestrated Keefe's demise and the records would show it.

Their plane tickets from Texas to Miami on flight 1019 were bought and paid for with Rippner's credit card. The man at Joe Reisert's house was only there to make sure Rippner kept control over her—and for Rippner to stay ignorant of the end game.

But somehow, she went from a pawn to an escape plan. Their chase through Miami International Airport made the police scanners, yet they were in together. She faked his death. And now they were working together in a new location.

Not for long. No one made a fool out of him, cheated him out of money, and destroyed his good name. Not even that little bitch and Rippner.

He dialed a number. "Jet… one hour… Maryland…"

**Author's Notes:**

Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I'm sorry about the delay—it's been a busy week. Anyways, I will add chapter 15 on Sunday or possibly Monday. I'm only delaying it because it has a cliffie ending and I haven't started work on chapter 16 yet.

And no, I've never had a dye pack explode on me, but I've heard stories and almost had one detonate by accident. They're really sensitive.

In other news, a similar robbery occurred in real life yesterday. Unlike the one Lisa experienced, no one was shot. It was just a freaky coincidence.

Thanks again and enjoy! Remember, anonymous reviews are welcome and I will respond them just like I respond to signed reviews!

Lisa Reisert- Thank you very much! Right now, Lisa wants to kick his butt, but she's doing it in subtle ways. :)

Nadiah.Z.S. – Thank you, thank you, thank you! Hopefully this chapter will hold you over until the next one comes. You'll be super-glued to the screen by the time they get together! Thanks again! ;)


	16. Chapter Fifteen: Run For Your Life

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except for Kat, Aidan, Carter, and that crazy gang.

**Chapter Fifteen**

"_Run for your life…" ~ __**Get Out Alive**__ by Three Days Grace_

By the time Aidan's BMW pulled up in front of the bank, a mostly red Jackson stood in front of the doors, slowly striping his ruined clothes off, using them to sop up the dye on his skin.

"What the hell?"

Sitting beside him with a jacket pulled over her nightgown was Kat. She giggled for a brief moment, probably at the absurdity of Jackson covered in red dye. "Dye pack. Trust Jackson to make one explode…"

His wife pushed her door open, extending a foot. Her movements were slow and unsteady, prompting him to rush around the convertible. He slammed his own door in order to catch Kat before she fell. She wobbled in his arms.

"Take it easy, Katy…"

"I'm fine."

Jackson looked up, squinting at them. "Kat? What are you doing here?"

"Keeping you and Lisa from committing murder, but it looks like I'm a bit too late…"

"Points to Lisa," Aidan muttered under his breath.

"Thanks for _not_ warning her, Kat," Jackson grumbled, brushed at his clothes.

"I'll buy you a new suit," she soothed. "And dinner…"

Jackson leaned his back against the building, painting the bricks a different color. "Aren't you supposed to be on bed rest?"

"She is. Not that she listens," Aidan insisted, pulling Kat closer, cradling her a bit.

"I'm not an invalid!"

"Let's see, Katherine… you were shot, what, three times? You belong in bed," Jackson taunted, a bit of a grin on his face.

"Hey, not fair! You were shot, stabbed, and lobotomized just a few months ago!"

"Tracheotomy, not lobotomy," he retorted.

"Like there's a difference."

Aidan spun her around to face him, breaking up the argument. "Katy, do you want to talk to Lisa for a moment?"

"Are you going to escort me or can I use my own two feet?"

"Two feet—but you'd better stick your butt in a chair."

She stuck out her tongue at him, annoyed. "Fine."

"Okay. Let me help—"

"I can do it!" Kat protested, pulling away, only to trip over the curb. Aidan grabbed her arm, keeping her upright.

"That's it. I'm carrying you."

Her scattered complaints went unheard as he scooped her up, one arm wrapped around her back and the other under her knees. She was virtually weightless. Her appetite disappeared after the surgeries, thanks to the pain medications, and the blood loss and inactivity weakened her body. Her muscles disappeared as well.

All of their self-defense classes were cancelled until Kat got well. Her mandatory bed rest and lack of energy prevented them from sparring or Kat keeping her balance.

He knew she hated having her independence snatched away. They had a variety of wheelchairs and walking aids to help Kat get around their house. She hated all the contraptions. Aidan couldn't blame her.

Aidan set her down in a chair in the kitchen. "I'll go get Lisa."

Kat already had her hand on the phone. "I'll just buzz her. Go see Jack."

"Are you sure?"

"Ask me again and you won't like the answer," Kat warned.

* * *

Aidan tossed a duffel bag into the bathroom, letting it land at Jackson's feet. He leaned against the door, standing in the hallway while the other man changed.

"What did you do to piss her off now?"

"I showed up for work," Jackson replied through the door. "That's all."

"Women…"

A laugh. "You got that right. Lisa's a vindictive bitch."

"Can't say I'd blame her. I read the reports. It's a miracle she didn't kill you outright with that pen," Aidan commented as Jackson opened the door.

"She left her mark." A red mark on his throat was visible underneath the dye.

"Kat hit it on the nose. Lisa's your match in every way. She fought you tooth and nail, just like you would've fought her. Jack, she's a less jaded version of you. That's why—"

"Don't say it," Jackson barked. "Don't…"

"…you saved her life."

* * *

"He saved your life. I know that can't be easy for you," Kat said, taking Lisa's hand across the table.

"Every since he showed up again, I've seen a side that I didn't want to see," Lisa admitted. "A human side. He shouldn't be human—it's not fair!"

Kat squeezed her hand. "Would you rather he let you die?"

"Anything is better than being in debt to him!"

"You're looking at this the wrong way. Don't think about it as debt. Think of it as a second chance. C'mon, you can't seriously tell me that part of you doesn't wish that he stayed Mr. Charming during the flight…"

Lisa frowned. "I… I…"

"You do. You feel betrayed. What you don't see is his side. He had a job to do. He couldn't let feelings get in the way."

She shook her head. "It's too late, Kat. Can you please do me a favor?"

"What?"

"Fire him. I can't work with him."

"Give him a chance, Lisa. He might be an asset."

* * *

"So what?" Jackson snapped. "Maybe I wanted to shoot her myself!"

"You _did_. Past tense, Jack. You don't want to kill her. Kat's seen it. You can't fool her. She's seen the looks between you. Not to mention you saving her life."

"Tell Kat to put her shrink degree away."

"Would it be so horrible if you really cared for her?"

* * *

Lisa snorted at the ridiculousness of the idea. Jackson Rippner… an asset? Okay, he might have stopped a robbery, but he still was a killer. He would always be a killer.

"Try and get to know him, okay? For me?" Kat asked, looking a bit pathetic. Begging didn't suit her at all.

"Two weeks," she insisted. "Two weeks and he's gone."

* * *

After two hours spent in the shower, Jackson stepped out of his bathroom with a red hue surrounding him—a watered down version of his earlier dye-splattered self. His clothes were already gone and Aidan's loaner clothes kept him from ruining the leather interior of his Audi.

He padded down to the townhouse's kitchen in a pair of sweatpants. He still limped a bit, even though he tried not to use his cane.

Jackson hated cooking, yet he got sick of living off takeout and it was hell on his body. He needed his strength back. Bit by bit, he was slowly rebuilding his life. Getting a real job that did not involve carrying a weapon 24/7, was a big step forward for him.

He opened his refrigerator and grabbed the milk carton. Cereal and milk made a decent dinner. At least it didn't require much effort on his part. He paused at the slight reflection in the old-fashioned glass container. It wasn't his face he saw. It was a stranger's.

Jackson swiveled around as the bullet struck his back. He fell face first, the milk carton in his hand toppling over, spilling across the floor.

"Traitor," whispered the shooter, his footsteps echoing across the tile floor as he let himself out.

* * *

Lisa stretched out on her couch, dressed in a comfortable pair of navy sweatpants and a loose t-shirt of her dad's. She held a glass of wine in one hand and the remote control for her TV in the other. She needed to unwind before bed.

She finished her wine and turned on a classic movie—_Rear Window_ with Jimmy Stewart and Grace Kelly was playing on Turner Classic Movies—before snuggling up under a blanket.

The movie was almost over. Grace Kelly's character, Lisa, was sneaking into Stewart's neighbor's apartment to hunt for evidence that he killed his wife. But as the villainous Thorwald returned. Just as her namesake began screaming for Stewart's Jeff, there was a knock at her front door.

Lisa jumped, rolling off her couch. She grunted, kicking her legs free of the blanket.

She slowly stood up, the remote clutched tightly like a weapon.

Another knock shook her front door.

With trembling hands, she opened the door. Lying on her front step, blood seeping from his back, was a man. She took a step back.

A bloody, scratched hand encircled her ankle.

Lisa screamed, moving to kick him. Then familiar blue eyes looked up at her. Tired, not ice cold or hateful for once.

"Help me… Leese…" he begged.

Jackson Rippner was lying on her front step with a bullet in his bare back.

**Author's Notes:**

Thanks for the reviews and enjoy!

Here's a quick poll—how many readers would like to see Jackson die (not necessarily as a direct result of the bullet, but maybe complications)? How many want him to be in a wheelchair for a while? How many want him never to be able to walk again? I'd love some input.

And I swear I had the bullet-in-the-back idea _before_ the _CSI: NY_ writers used it on Danny Messer this season. ;)

Sorry it took me so long to update! I was ready to go for updating on Monday, but I got distracted and didn't feel good, so… yeah. Sorry!

Patroit16- Thanks for the review! I thought it was fun to give Lisa the control this time around and make Jackson the helpless one. He's going to be even more helpless from here on out. She is picking on him a bit because she can't deal with her real feelings. : )


	17. Chapter Sixteen: You Never See Me Change

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Jackson or Lisa—just Kat and Aidan.

**Chapter Sixteen**

"_And you never see me change/Into something I'm not…" ~ __**Famous Last Words**__ by Zeromancer _

Against her better judgment, Lisa bent down to examine Jackson. She wanted to just walk away from him and leave him to die. Yet, the human part of her couldn't let him suffer.

Blood coated her hand as she felt the bullet hole. It was right next to his spine.

"Of all the doorsteps in Frederick, you have to die on mine," she grunted, trying to drag him inside.

"Wasn't my idea. They cut the phone."

She pulled him across the threshold, giving herself enough room to shut and lock the door. Jackson slumped against the wall, his dirt encrusted legs not moving. Even his dirt-blacked toes didn't wiggle.

_Spinal cord damage. He's as good as dead. He deserves it._

"And you crawl here? Why not Kat's?"

"You're closer," he admitted, his eyes tired. He seemed close to passing out.

"Closer? How?"

"Next door. Number 5."

Shock sank in. Not just at a dying Jackson Rippner on her hardwood floor, but at his revelation. Number 5 was the adjacent townhouse—the middle one in the row of three. He'd invaded her life once again.

"How long?"

"Since… once I got released."

A part of her wasn't even surprised. He always seemed to be into long-term surveillance. Kat probably knew he was in town as soon as he arrived.

"I'll call 911…" Lisa pushed herself up off the floor, needing some distance from him. He looked almost human—too human for her to keep her head clear. _Murderer,_ she reminded herself. _He's killed people for money._

"No… call the company…"

"But—"

"They'll kill me," he whispered. "Call Kat. Carter… he'll handle it…"

Jackson sank further, his blood coating her freshly painted walls.

Lisa scrambled for her house phone. Her fingers dialed before she bothered to place the handset to her ear. Silence was her belated reward. There wasn't a dial tone.

She slammed the receiver down before dumping her purse over on the kitchen island. She sorted through the jumbled mess, hunting for her tiny flip phone. The black-and-silver Motorola stared her in the face. She dialed 9-1-1, only for her cell phone to inform her that she had no service. Her phone was blocked.

_Whoever did this really wants him dead…_

Lisa turned her attention to Jackson. She couldn't call for an ambulance or any kind of help. She was completely on her own. By the time she could get him into her car and drive, he'd be dead. If Jackson was going to survive the night, she would have to save his life.

_Everyone deserves a second chance, right? Can he be as evil as he seems? He saved my life… and Kat is his friend. Could I be wrong? What if this was some bizarre case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time?_

_What if… _

* * *

"It's done. Rippner's been terminated."

"And the girl?" inquired his boss, still staring at the black-and-white photographs of the bank robbery.

"Alive at the moment. But not for long."

"Good, good. You know how to stage her death?"

"Yeah, yeah. Murder-suicide. Girl finds out he cheated on her, shoots him, then kills herself with the same gun."

"Perfect. Call me when it's done." He hung up the phone.

* * *

After a short internal debate, Lisa threw open her first aid kit. She cleansed the wound before examining the hole. There was still a bullet in there somewhere and given the proximity to his spine, she didn't want to be the one poking around for it. Using clean stripes of gauze, she stanched the bleeding and covered the hole. It would help slow the blood loss until she could get him to Kat.

Her first choice would've been a hospital, but he'd already refused. He wanted to see Kat.

Lisa took a deep breath, then grabbed Jackson's feet. She pulled him along the floor, trying not to jar him too much.

She barely got him to the front step when her back door caved in.

"Oh… damn it, Jack!"

Her survival instinct told her to run and leave Jackson behind. She knew she should save herself, yet part of her wanted to save him. Leaving him to die with a bullet in his back seemed too cruel.

_But he meant to kill me… he _wanted_ me dead…_

_But… he did save my life. I owe it to him to try and save his._

_Keys—my keys!_

Her purse was still slipped on her kitchen's island. Her keys were somewhere in that mess.

She ran back inside the kitchen, determined to get her keys. The purse was a lost cause—she might only have seconds to snag her keys and run. She needed those keys.

Lisa rifled through the debris. Her fist closed around the keys. Victory.

Until, from the shadows, a figure in all black lunged at her, snagging her arm.

_No, no, no!_

Furious, Lisa unleashed a back kick that nailed him in the thigh.

She ran, not giving him time to recover.

On her front step, Jackson was still out cold. She bent down, tossing his arm around her shoulder and letting his feet drag across the ground.

Adrenaline lent her some strength. If Jackson had a more muscular build, Lisa doubted they would've ever reached her car. As it was, their frenzied pace wasn't much more than a skip-shuffle-hop-drag. Her car was parked on the driveway for once, not tucked in the garage.

Footsteps echoed behind them. The man was gaining ground.

She shoved Jackson in the backseat as the black-clad man came after her again. Clutching her car keys, she slashed at his face. Her first strike missed, yet the second one connected. The jagged edge of her key ripped across his cheek, causing blood to spurt.

Lisa turned on her heel, using those precious seconds to dash around the car. She jumped inside and slammed down the lock buttons, relieved to hear the answering click as the locks fell into place around her. A quick twist of the key and her engine sputtered to life.

In her rearview mirror she glimpsed the man. He raised a gun up.

She punched the gas pedal after shifting into Reverse. Her sedan collided with him, a painful thwack sending tremors through the car.

Panic filled her veins. _I just killed him. I killed someone…_

A coughing chuckle grabbed her attention. "You like using cars, don't you?"

"I didn't have a pen."

The laugh turned into a wheeze from her injured passenger. "That hurts, Leese. I thought you knew that."

"I'm sorry, but I didn't have time to consider his feelings," she snapped, shifting the crippled sedan into Drive.

"That's a shame. He might've been a nice guy."

* * *

Lisa parked behind Kat and Aidan's house, her sedan sliding in beside Aidan's familiar BMW.

"Stay!" she told Jackson, not bothering to see if he listened like a good dog.

Her bare feet scattered gravel as she ran, the stones digging painfully into her skin. The door shook as she knocked.

It took a few minutes for lights to flip on. Aidan pushed the curtains aside, peering at her with weary eyes before unbolting the back door. "Lisa? What's wrong?"

"Jackson—he's been shot."

"Where?" He rubbed his eyes, slowly waking up.

"In his back. I bandaged it… that's all," she mumbled, leading him to her ruined car.

"He can walk?"

She shook her head.

"Why did you move him?"

Lisa turned to stare at him. "He showed up at my door, bleeding, and magically, a man in black with a gun is trying to kill me. Did you really think I was going to hang around?"

"You should've called."

"The phone's dead."

Aidan nodded, opening the car door. Jackson blinked and opened his blue eyes. "Murphy, it's about time you showed up."

"What stupid ass thing did you do now, Jack?" Kat's voice piped in, her skinny body barely hidden by a loose t-shirt.

"Wasn't me…" he protested.

Kat snorted, pushing her way toward him. "Yeah, I heard that song too. It was you. Didn't Jim tell you not to play with guns?"

"No… he just said to be careful and that I _shouldn't_."

Lisa went to Kat's side. "Will he be okay or should I just end his misery right now?"

"There's no known cure for being an asshole, but he'll live. He's too stubborn to die," Kat admitted. Her voice lowered, "Where was he shot?"

"The back. Near the spine."

Kat closed her eyes for a moment. "Help him inside, okay? I'm gonna call Dad. Lisa, let's get you in some new clothes…"

Her friend wrapped an arm around her, leading her shaking body inside. They passed a mirror, giving Lisa a good look at herself. She was covered in Jackson's blood. Blood that he needed to live. He should be dead.

Yet for some reason she didn't understand, she didn't want him to die.

**Author's Notes:**

Thanks to the overwhelming response from reviewers, Jackson will survive for the time-being. Just remember that no character is truly safe. This is a thriller, after all. But if a major character is going to die, I will probably put a disclaimer at the top of the chapter. Right now, all of their fates are up in the air—that doesn't mean someone will die, it just means they might. I hope that makes sense.

Lilly- Thanks for the review!


	18. Chapter Seventeen: Passing Me By

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Jackson or Lisa—just Kat and Aidan.

**Chapter Seventeen**

"_On this bed I lay/Losing everything/I can see my life passing me by…" ~ __**Time of Dying**__ by Three Days Grace _

Hours later, Jackson awoke inch by painful inch in a large, bright room. Machines whirred and beeped in the background, reminding him of waking up in Jim's house following multiple surgeries. Luckily, this wasn't a hospital either. Lisa had listened—wait, Lisa?

He frowned a little, trying to see his surroundings better.

Except when he tried to slide up the bed, his legs didn't respond. Using his hands, Jackson pulled himself up the bed.

He stared down at his unmoving legs.

He was paralyzed. Other than a few twinges, he couldn't feel anything past the middle of his lower back.

Paralyzed. Just another term for dead meat in his world.

*~*~*~*~*~*

After a shower and a change of clothes, Lisa felt a little less rattled. Men with guns seemed to be drawn toward her like bees to flowers.

Kat lay stretched out on the bed in the adjoining room. "My dad got the bullet out. He's still out, but he's alive."

"Good. So I can kill him when he wakes up." Lisa toweled her curls a bit, trying to get more water out of her hair.

"Cut him a bit of slack, Lisa."

She sighed, plopping down on the edge of the bed next to her friend. "He walked into my life and turned it into shit. How could I forgive him? Tell me what I'm supposed to do!"

"Right now? Get some rest. You're exhausted and stressed. You can't think straight."

"But—"

"Rest here. We'll get you set up in a new place soon. You can't go back there. Not tonight and not ever."

Lisa stared up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath. "Why? Why do I have to move again?"

"You said this guy came after you, right?" Kat asked, looking serious for once in her life. "That means he either meant to kill you or he watched Jackson crawl to you and decided to get rid of you."

"Great, now I'm a walking target again."

"Just for a little while, I promise. I know what it's like to live in hiding. It sucks," Kat agreed, compassion showing on her face.

"What about work? I can't—"

"You can. We'll make sure you get there and home safe. I promise."

Lisa looked at her best friend, her only friend in this strange new world full of death. "I don't have a choice, do I?"

*~*~*~*~*~*

"What the hell is that?" Jackson demanded when Kat rolled a wheelchair into his room.

"Your wheels. You like?"

"Is that rust?"

"Flames," Kat insisted, her arms crossed as she sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Flames? Why the fuck are there flames on my wheelchair?"

"Take it is easy, grumpy. Jeesh, if I didn't know any better I'd say you've traded places with Greg House."

"Who the hell is House?"

Kat scoffed, seeming a bit insulted. "Do you live in a cave? He's only the nastiest doctor on TV. I think you guys could be best friends—"

"Katherine Lynn—"

"What?"

He stared at her. "Tell me the truth. Am I ever going to walk again?"

She met his blue gaze with her own. "Would it be truly terrible if you didn't?"

"I can't defend myself like this!"

"You'll learn." Kat smiled at him. "Do you think my dad would leave you to die after everything you've done for us?"

"Well, yes."

"I think you'll find the chair to be more of a help than a pain in the ass. It's customized. The flames were my touch."

"How thoughtful," he sneered.

She cuffed him up the side of the head, her hand not really connecting. Part of it was because she didn't want to hurt him while the other part was due to his hand intercepting her wrist inches from his skull.

"Jack—"

"I want you to promise me something…"

"No, this is—"

"If I'm not going to walk again, I want you to kill me. Okay? Or give Lisa a turn—I don't care. I'd rather one of you took care of it than…"

"I won't do it, Jack. If you want to die, have the guts to do it yourself."

Kat pulled her wrist free and stalked out of room, leaving Jackson alone in the bed, staring at his wheelchair.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The front door creaked open, illuminating a tiny apartment. Aidan stepped in first, gun in hand, while Lisa followed with Kat on her heels.

"It's not much, but it'll do until we can get a better place arranged," Kat said, flipping on the lights while Aidan checked the rest of the apartment for a boogeyman lurking in the closets.

Lisa surveyed the bleak space. There were a few cracks in the walls, flecks of paint on the floor, and worn-out furniture. It was livable, provided the avocado-colored kitchen appliances still worked.

"There's one bedroom with a queen-sized bed. The couch pulls out, but I wouldn't trust it," Kat suggested, leading the tour. "There's an updated security system that I'll give you the code for. Plus one of us will check out the apartment when you come home and when you leave. We'll drive you."

"Kat, you guys don't have to do all this—"

"I want to. You're my friend."

Lisa gave her a half-smile. "Are you trying to find out who did this?"

"My dad's best people are on it. Aidan's pitching in. We'll find out, I promise."

She took a seat on the lumpy couch. "And Jackson?"

"Once he's stabilized… he needs to go underground. Since you work together…"

"No. No. No. And no!" Lisa protested.

"Just for a little bit, please? I can't help him and Aidan's gone a lot during the day."

"We could both stay with you—"

"There's not enough space or security. There's a chance you were followed to our house. We can't compromise your safety or Jackson's," Kat admitted, squeezing Lisa's hand. "It's just…"

"For a little while," Lisa echoed.

"Exactly. And you're not going to be alone, at least not for long."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

*~*~*~*~*~*

A "car accident" covered Jackson's absence from work for a short time, giving him a chance to adjust to the wheelchair. He was an expert when he rolled into BankFrederick one morning.

His drawer was moved to the lower desk at the end—Kat's old desk. The drawer didn't really lock, but it worked for him. He mainly handled deposits and transfers instead of cashing checks and printing cashier's checks and money orders like the other tellers.

Lisa passed the torch to the night tellers at four o' clock like every day. As part of their agreement, Aidan waited outside, driving a sedan with dark windows. He leaned against the hood of the car, his arms crossed. It was his day to drive her home.

"Hold the door," Jackson called, wheeling himself into the lobby as Lisa reached for the first door.

She pulled it shut, flipping the lock on the other side with her key.

Blue eyes blazed through the glass. Using one hand to steady the chair, Jackson reached up for the lock, his fingers not quite reaching. It took a few moments, but he unlatched the door and maneuvered through with one hand pressing against the door while the other hand spun the wheels.

"Nice try, Leese," he sneered, his wheelchair bumping into her leg in the tight space between doors. "We're going home together."

"No way in hell."

*~*~*~*~*~*

He glanced out the tinted window of his office, staring off into the noisy streets of Washington, D.C. Below him, people in business attire scrambled to their various office buildings while tour buses and bicyclists flew past them. He counted three t-shirt stands marketed at tourists on the nearby corner.

A knock sounded on his office door. "Come in," he called.

"Sir, I have some bad news."

He turned around to face his assistant. The young college-age man seemed to tremble before his gaze. "What is it?"

"It's about the Reisert girl. She escaped."

"How is that possible?"

"I honestly don't know, Sir. When our man went over to get her, she fought back. There's a blood trail through her house."

"And?"

"He's dead."

"Striker?"

"No, it was Mr. Nicholas."

"Oh." He relaxed again. Nicholas was relatively new and not nearly as experienced as Striker. "The Reisert girl killed him?"

"With her car."

He couldn't repress a slight smile. Rippner had picked a real winner with Lisa Reisert. The former hotel manager was just as ruthless as her lover.

"What about Rippner?"

"That's the other problem. Reisert took him with her. Judging by the blood at his place, he's severely wounded."

"They couldn't have gotten fair. Find them and kill them before this gets out of control. I want it contained."

"Sure, Boss."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Aidan let Jackson wheel into the apartment first, standing between him and Lisa. Neither one had spoken since leaving the bank.

"Home, sweet home," Jackson said with a smirk, rolling into the center of the living room. "Nice décor, Lisa."

"Thanks. I was going for trashy chic."

"I installed a bar in the bathroom to help you a bit," Aidan interrupted, getting between the two again before the insults started flying. "And Kat put new sheets on the bed—"

"No, no, no! He can sleep on the couch!"

"I'm the wounded one, here, Leese—" Jackson added.

"Couch or floor."

Aidan grabbed Lisa by the shoulders and dragged her a few feet away from Jackson. "Lisa, cut him a bit of slack. He won't hurt you. He can't. Just remember that _he's_ the helpless one. You have all the power."

"He's still sleeping on the couch."

**Author's Notes:**

Sorry it took so long! It took me a while to write, do my edit, and then have my wonderful beta take a look—mainly because we were both sick. Anyways, I'm midway through the next chapter, and yes, it does pick up right after Lisa's declaration.

Thanks for all the reviews! Have a Happy Halloween and enjoy!

Lisa Reisert – Jackson's safe at the moment. That doesn't mean everyone's safe. He's ok at the moment though. Don't worry—he's my favorite. :)


	19. Chapter Eighteen: I'm Free

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Jackson or Lisa—just Kat and Aidan.

**Chapter Eighteen**

"_I'm free, I'm free to be me…" ~ __**The Little Things Give You Away**__ by Linkin Park_

Lisa rolled over onto her side, one arm underneath her pillow. _Smug-faced bastard…_

Just a few feet away, behind a partially cracked door, Jackson Rippner snored. She'd heard metro trains fly by platforms with less noise. Not only did he snore, he'd kicked her out of her own bed. Aidan gave her the choice between sharing the bed with Jackson or finding another place to sleep inside the apartment. That mainly left taking her chances on the couch or floor.

She could've sworn she saw the floor move once. Lisa had no ambition of finding out what lived in the carpeting. She chose the lesser of three evils—the couch.

Though with all the lumps and broken springs pressing into her back, she already regretted her choice. Tomorrow night, she'd take her chances with the floor. Maybe even inside the moldy shower.

Anywhere else in the damn apartment that did not involve sharing a bed with a killer.

* * *

He could hear her tossing and turning down the hall, even over his feigned snores. Part of him hoped she'd walk down the hall and try to smother him with a pillow. Another part of him enjoyed the little digs and mind games he could play with her.

_There's nothing like a captive audience…_

Of course, being this close to Lisa with her knowledge was exciting. Sure, he'd been feet away before while she slept. Living in the same, cramped apartment together? If his boss mentioned that he would be living with Lisa after chasing her down with a knife all those months ago, he would have laughed.

Being stuck in a wheelchair was no laughing matter.

Jackson sighed, sinking further down into Lisa's bed. Normally he wouldn't care if he slept in his car—which he'd done more times than he could count—or on the floor or even in a chair. He did appreciate having a bed after spending the entire day stuck in his chair. His mobile prison.

_"Once the transfer is confirmed, I want you to take care of the paperwork," his boss on the Keefe job instructed. They never met face-to-face. It was all done over the phone, his boss using a voice synthesizer. _

_ "Any particular way?"_

_ "Keep it clean."_

_ That meant that Lisa Reisert was to die an accidental death—a suicide, a car accident—anything convenient. But not until Keefe and his family were dead. Lisa Reisert was collateral damage. Collateral damage was just a routine part of his job._

_ "Will do."_

When he followed her back to her father's house, Jackson meant to kill her. He _needed_ to kill her in order to get paid.

_"If you fail, I will kill you," warned the electronic voice._

Except Joseph Reisert beat the Russians to the punch. Joe's shot would have killed him if Carter hadn't pulled him out of the house. If he hadn't played hide-and-seek with Lisa in her father's house, the Russians would have got him. If he'd succeeded in killing her quickly, they might still have come after him in the belief that she'd escaped.

No matter what, he still would have failed. Lisa would survive just about any attack he threw at her. She was like a damn cockroach.

* * *

"Rise and shine!" Kat crowed, pulling aside curtains. The morning sunlight flooded the apartment, temporarily blinding Jackson. He groaned, pulling a pillow over his face.

"How the hell are you so damn chirpy?" he muttered.

"Well, this morning, Aidan—"

"Never mind. I don't want to know."

The pillow disappeared. "I thought guests slept on the couch," she said, her face inches away from his.

"Go bother Aidan."

"Grumpy gills, it's time to get up. You're gonna be late!"

He chucked a lumpy pillow at her head. "Go away!"

Kat ducked the flying missile and yanked the sheet off the bed. He glared daggers at her, just dressed in boxers. "C'mon. Time to get your lazy butt back in the chair…"

"No fucking way."

"Jack… we've been over this. If you don't try to walk, you won't ever walk again."

"What happened to putting me out of my misery?"

"Not today, my friend."

Jackson groaned, pushing himself into an upright position. "If I get dressed and get in the chair, will you leave me alone?"

"Well, not really alone, but I'll leave."

"Is this some twisted version of suicide watch, Kat?"

She shrugged, tossing a suit onto the bed. "You could call it that."

He rolled his eyes as he reached for his pants. Jackson reached down, grabbing his leg to pull it toward him. It was painfully awkward to manhandle his legs into his pant legs. Even then, it took Kat to help him zip and button up the top of the pants.

She pulled on socks while he struggled with his shirt. Having control over his upper body helped, but it didn't make life without his legs easy.

With Kat's help, he got into the wheelchair. She arranged his feet on the pedals as he gripped the wheels.

"Where's Lisa?" he asked, pushing the chair toward the bathroom.

"She's already in the car. We're just waiting on you."

"Oh." He stopped in front of the mirror, eyeing his mussed appearance. Wrinkled shirt, pants covered in lint, and socks but no shoes.

Kat stood beside him in the mirror, her blue eyes sad. "It'll get better. You just have to keep trying."

"That's easy for you to say. You're wearing shoes!"

She looked down at his feet. "Shit, Jack! Why didn't you say something?"

"How would I know? It's not like I can feel my toes or anything!"

His chair moved when she kicked the wheel. "Me, me, me! Listen to yourself, Jack!"

He rolled the chair back, turning to face her. "Like you haven't done that before! Oh, help me, I've got a paper cut!" he mocked.

Kat scoffed. "You know what? You can sleep on the couch tonight. No wonder Lisa was eager to go to work."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Figure it out, Jackass."

* * *

Lisa had to swallow her laughter when Jackson wheeled himself out of their ground floor apartment. She had never seen the oh-so cool manager looked so ragged. For a control freak like Jackson, having one shoelace being a few inches longer than the other was probably a cause for worry. But to be seen wearing two different color socks, lint-covered slacks, and a wrinkled shirt buttoned up wrong all on the same day?

Kat locked the door after him, jogging to the waiting car.

Aidan climbed out to help Jackson into the backseat. His wife hopped into the driver's seat, her face a mask of fury. Her lips were pressed in a tight line, her knuckles white from gripping the wheel.

"What's wrong?" Lisa asked. She'd never seen Kat angry before, not even when dealing with the most aggressive of their customers.

"Mr. Woe-is-Me."

"How long is he going to be staying with me?"

"Too long," Kat said with a sigh. "Would you like me to get you another bed?"

Part of her wanted to jump at the unexpected offer. The rational side of her resisted. "This apartment is temporary, right?"

"We'll have a new place ready by the end of the week."

"I think I can rough it on the couch for a week."

"Let me know if you change your mind," Kat offered as the back doors shut.

"You'll be the first to know."

* * *

_ "Can I get an override?"_

_ "Lisa…how do I do a cashier's check?"_

_ "Call for you, Lisa!"_

_ "I need an override, please!"_

_ "Can I get some large? Three packs?" _

_ "Lisa?"_

"Lisa?"

"Leese, nap time's over," a male voice broke through the fog of her day. Jackson.

She bolted upright from the counter she'd fallen asleep on in the workroom. The computer screen in front of her kept blinking as it balanced that day's work.

"What?" she mumbled sleepily.

"It's after three, Leese. All hell is breaking loose back there. But no one seems to know how to lock the doors, count their money, or answer a damn phone."

"Why are you here?"

"It was that or listen to them all scream 'Lisa' over and over again. Apparently they're all afraid of bothering you. What happened to all those stress management classes you took in Miami?"

"I met you," she snapped, slowly standing up. "Go lock the doors."

Her key ring sailed through the air. Jackson caught it in his hand.

She stormed off through the door right into the middle of chaos. It beat being stuck in the cramped back room with Jackson.

* * *

Sitting on BankFrederick made it easy to locate Rippner and his lover. They arrived like clockwork every morning in a different car with a driver. The driver helped Rippner into his wheelchair after they pulled up. The driver always came back around 3:30 to pick them up.

Despite the customization of the cars, their driver had a way of disappearing down crowded streets in the traffic. It took him a week before he made it more than a few blocks.

Of course, he hadn't expected them to stay at a fleabag apartment building. No one had.

He parked across the street, his binoculars looking through the windows at the two. The driver left after a few minutes. He could see right into the kitchen where Lisa Reisert was struggling with the ancient stove.

Rippner relaxed in his chair beside her, talking to her. She raised a frying pan and waved it toward his head. He rolled out of her range, laughing.

They were both in for the night, it looked like. Perfect.

He picked up his cell phone. "Sir? I found them. Tonight? Sure thing. They'll be dead by dawn."

**Author's Notes: **

Sorry for the delay! The good news is I have another chapter almost ready to go right after this one. I'll be starting on chapter 20 this weekend.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I hope everyone who celebrated Thanksgiving had a good turkey or tofurkey day!

And many thanks to my beta! She makes sure that everyone isn't scratching their heads after a 2am writing session.

Lisa Reisert- Thanks! Enjoy! ;)

Patroit16- Thank you! Sorry about the delay! Enjoy! :)


	20. Chapter Nineteen: Watch As Tables Turn

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Nineteen**

"_Watch as tables turn… " ~ __**Broken Promise **__by Placebo_

"Take it easy, Leese. Put the pan down," Jackson said calmly.

There wasn't much room to maneuver his wheelchair in the compact kitchen. With Lisa swinging her steel weapon, there was even less.

Judging by the vicious glare she shot his way, she was using the pan to keep him away. Like that would work. If she didn't watch her arm, she might just end up knocking herself out cold with the pan. It wasn't like he'd be able to catch her either.

"Get out of my kitchen!" she ordered, swinging the pan again.

He backed his wheelchair up, trying to turn around.

It jolted when Lisa gave one of the wheels a kick.

Scowling, he turned the wheelchair around to stare at her. It was a jerky, not-circular, turnaround.

She towered over him. "What part of 'get out' did you not understand? The get or the out?"

"Both," he mocked. "Are you going to cook or should I?"

"You cook?" Lisa seemed stunned. What did she think he was? A caveman? A person couldn't live off fast-food forever. Not if they wanted to be able to run from danger.

"I took a few courses."

"Cooking class? You?"

"Why is that so hard to believe?"

Lisa let the pan drop to her side. "Because… it's you!"

"Brilliant argument, Leese. Bravo!"

The withering glare he got in return showed that she didn't appreciate his attempts at his humor. Then again Lisa never did have much of an appreciation for his sense of humor—or any humor for that matter. It just wasn't part of her.

He waited for the pan to whack him. He deserved it. Lisa might hate him, but she wasn't vindictive. Was she?

"Are you offering to cook?" she finally asked, her grip on the pan loosening.

"Maybe."

Jackson took the pan from her hand, sticking it in his lap. Lisa backed away. "Can you… cook like that?"

"I still have two hands," he pointed out, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. Not that it worked very well for him. Sarcasm came to him naturally.

"Thank you for stating the obvious."

"Well, I would make you scrambled eggs, but since it's not 3am, I doubt you'd want them," Jackson offered. "Nachos and cheese? No… you don't like finger food."

Lisa crossed her arms. "Pizza it is," she mumbled, reaching for the landline.

"Not so fast, Leese. I'm still guessing what you want."

"What I want is to get you out of my life! Working with you is one thing, but this… this is ridiculous!"

"You don't like spending time with me?"

"No! Did getting shot screw with your memory? You tried to kill me!"

"Leese, you say that like it's a bad thing…"

"It is!" she shouted.

His voice dropped. She was too excited as it was. "Listen, it was just a job, like the bank. You deal with customers. You make them happy. But at the end of the day, it's just a job. That's what the flight was to me. It was just another day at the office."

"You don't have an office!"

"How do you know?" he challenged. "Where do you get these ideas about me, Leese? Is there some handbook I don't know about? Did Dr. Phil write an entire book about how to deal with so-called 'terrorists'."

Jackson waited for a pen or some other foreign object to penetrate his skin. It wouldn't surprise him at all.

Instead, Lisa just took a breath and steeled herself at the other end of the table. He didn't even remember her moving over there. He'd been too busy staring at her face to watch where her feet took her.

"Are you a terrorist?"

He suppressed a laugh. "No, just a manager. Much like you."

"You're nothing like me," she hissed across the table.

"Take a good look at yourself, Leese, and let me know what you see."

Jackson turned his wheelchair around, still carrying the pot in his lap. This wasn't how he had envisioned dinner going.

Heels clicked on the floor and a door slammed a few moments later. Jackson snorted, shaking his head as he filled the pot with water. At least he could still reach the sink. But he hadn't figured out how he was going to even turn on the stove, let alone to get the rest of the ingredients he needed.

Since Lisa was off sulking in the bedroom, he couldn't ask her for help. Not that he wanted to.

He maneuvered through the kitchen, the pot on his lap. Using his arm, he placed it on one of the burners. His blue eyes searched around, looking for a broom or a long stick. It was possible he could use a broom handle to operate the stove. It was just his luck that they got stuck with the one stove with controls against the wall.

_If I could just find one…_

He rolled over to a tiny closet, hoping he would find something to help him. Even a baseball bat. Anything to give him more of a reach.

He pulled open the closet door. Objects rattled. He ducked, covering his head with his arm. Damn closets.

Books, toys, cooking utensils, spare sheets, and God-only-knew-what tumbled out of the closet and onto him. It seemed like several hours sped by as he stood under the shower of objects. Except it probably only took a few seconds to bounce off his arm.

"Jack? What the hell are you—?" Lisa's voice echoed off the walls.

"Under here," he mumbled, his head still covered with his arm. "Is it safe to come out?"

A quilt was pulled off his head and Lisa's porcelain skin came into focus. He could make out her cheekbones and even see what color eye shadow she wore. Silver. Classy.

"Avalanche de crap is over, if that's what you're asking about."

"Do you see a broom in that mess?"

"A broom? What do you need a broom for?"

"To fly away on, of course," he teased, grinning at her.

She rolled her eyes and reached for a broom. "Have fun with that."

Jackson took the broom from her hand. "Leese…"

"Are we having water for dinner?"

"No, I was trying to make spaghetti."

"You know that requires pasta, right?"

"I was getting to it."

She scoffed, stepping around the wheelchair. "You're useless," she mumbled. She stood on her tip-toes her arm reaching into one of the cabinets.

Jackson rolled closer, his knees almost bumping into the back of her legs. He had a nice view of her butt from the position in his wheelchair. She'd changed out of her usual skirt into a pair of patterned sleep pants and a matching shirt. Slippers covered her feet.

She spun around, a box of pasta and a jar of sauce in hand. Her legs bumped against his useless ones, sending her sliding.

He reached out, tugging her toward him. With a yelp, Lisa landed on his lap, the jar of sauce shattering on the ancient linoleum below.

Her head turned, her lips inches from his.

"What—"

Jackson couldn't resist. He closed the gap. His lips met hers. He heard Lisa gasp in surprise.

Before he could see her reaction, a window shattered further away in the apartment.

_Aw, hell no…_

**Author's Notes:**

I know… it's a mean cliffie. ;) Don't worry, chapter 20 is the works. I'm not that cruel.

Actually, chapter 20 is more than half-way and it's a pretty long chapter. I promise!

Please review! See you at the next chapter!


	21. Chapter Twenty: Do You Live? Do You Die?

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Twenty**

"_Do you live?/Do you die?/Do you bleed?/For the fantasy/In your mind…" ~ __**The Fantasy**__by 30 Seconds to Mars_

He broke through the window, not even bothering to cover up the noise. Rippner had sharp ears anyway.

He knocked the few remaining pieces out of the pane before climbing through, thick leather gloves protecting his hands and obscuring his prints. Thank God for the Home Depot and other mass-market chains. They made it very easy to obtain needed tools at low prices and made it hard to track purchasers.

Even if the cashiers did sometimes frown at those paying solely in cash. America had become the land of plastic. Everyone carried one of those plastic debit cards in their wallets. It was good for ATMs and every purchase. Except that it made your name known, just like those little store cards. It was all too easy to track people nowadays.

He landed on his booted feet in the bedroom. The door was half-open, giving him a glimpse of the rest of the apartment without exposing himself to being shot straight away. If there was even a gun in the house.

If there wasn't, Lisa Reisert could probably find an alternate weapon. She was thrifty, that one. And unbelievable sassy.

No wonder Rippner wouldn't let her go. He had a feeling she was a riot in the bedroom.

He smirked, peering around the door and into the kitchen. Rippner's lover was in his lap, both of them startled by the sudden noise. _Good, good. Fear is a good thing…_

His hand closed around the switchblade in his pocket. Guns weren't a sure thing anymore with Rippner. Not to mention that they were very loud and messy. A knife was better. And more fitting since Rippner was not much of a gunman.

Of course, none of that mattered since Lisa Reisert already had a large knife in her hand.

"Leese, what are you doing? Get out of here!" Rippner hissed.

That was apparently the wrong thing to tell the feisty woman. He smirked as Lisa shoved the wheelchair, which slipped on the mess on the kitchen floor. The wheelchair tipped, spilling Rippner onto the floor.

Instead of helping him up, Lisa stalked off, in her bunny slippers.

Until Rippner grabbed her ankle and yanked her down beside him. The knife in her hand flashed, a warning for him. A warning that he didn't seem to heed.

She growled, trying to pull herself up off the floor. His hand stayed put on her ankle, keeping her beside him.

"Let… go…"

"No."

He frowned. _Aren't you two fucking? Why so hostile?_

"Let me go!"

"Just… help me. Please…"

_Did Rippner just say "please"? And to a woman? Whoa…_

He stayed behind the door, wondering what other surprises this pair had in store for him tonight. As long as they died before dawn, it didn't matter how long it took. He might as well enjoy killing Rippner and his whore.

*~*~*~*~*~*

_Please? He said that? What kind of pills did they put you on? More importantly… can I have some?_

Lisa Reisert stared down at Jackson, feeling a bit of pity for her enemy. Sure, he was a monster. Sure, he'd tried to kill her and her father. He also tried to assassinate Charles Keefe and his family. But there was still a part of him that could feel pain. Part of him was human.

It was for that small part that she put down the knife.

She righted the wheelchair before stretching her arms out to pull him into a sitting position.

Looking at his useless body, she couldn't help but feel the pity in her stomach begin to fester. Jackson Rippner, Mr. Control-Freak, couldn't even control his own body, let alone control her. All she had to do was walk away and he would die. Most people would. But she couldn't. Part of her hoped he could change, even just a tiny bit.

Jackson grunted as she lifted him into the chair. Both of them were splattered with the sauce. She could feel shards of glass under her feet and knees. She ignored the sharp pinpricks.

"Thanks," he muttered, gripping the wheels with his hands.

Lisa took a step back. "No problem. Now get us out of here."

"I will. Just pick up that knife again, will you? Just in case."

Her hand closed around the handle. _All the better to stab you with, my dear…_

Jackson led the way, his wheelchair sliding into the shag carpeting of the living room. It slowed the chair, but it also quieted their approach.

"Stay there," he warned.

Lisa nodded, still holding the knife. She pressed her back against the wall and waited for whatever was going to come her way now.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Jackson's right hand slid along the frame, feeling for the special additions Kat had oh-so briefly mentioned when she gave him the wheelchair. He could only hope that the modifications were in fact weapons, not some twisted idea of a joke.

His hand fumbled on a brake. With a creak it dropped into his palm.

Jackson closed his hand around the object and pulled it out where he could see it. Opening his hand, he caught a glimpse of a Swiss Army pocketknife.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Katherine?" he swore, flipping the pocket knife open.

_A lot of fucking help this is… Hey, please excuse me, I need to get my screwdriver out. Don't shoot me…_

Jackson pushed the bedroom door open a bit further. Whoever had broken in seemed to have stayed in that one room. That meant they might just be a burglar.

However, since most of the lights in the apartment were on, he was willing to bet that whoever had broken in had more than jewelry and small electronics on his mind. The intruder probably had blood in mind.

_Well, that's just too fucking bad…_

He wheeled in just a bit, craning his neck to see into the room.

Curtains flapped in the night breeze over the broken window. _Great, now we'll freeze overnight, too…_

A door clicked shut. The bathroom. The intruder was hiding in the bathroom. Or was he?

Jackson rolled through the door, one hand on a wheel when he stopped. He tightened his grip on the Swiss Army toy that served as a weapon. He went to move further into the bedroom, until Lisa let out a scream that was part terror and part warning cry.

_What are you, a fucking ninja? Give me a break…_

*~*~*~*~*~*

Back in the living room, Lisa had a knife to her neck. At the touch of the blade, she froze up, trying to ignore the images flashing through her mind. The memories of pain. The loss of control.

_Not again, please… not again…_

The intruder dragged her backward, throwing her off balance. She struggled to backpedal in her slippers, losing one. The butcher knife dropped to the carpeting with a muffled thud. One of her hands locked on the arm around her neck. The other grabbed onto the knife hand. Lisa could feel the blade biting into her skin and the warm trickle of blood it caused.

"Don't fight…" he ordered.

"Jack!" she gasped, fighting to breath.

In the stained mirror hanging on the wall, she saw Jackson slowly wheeling into the room.

The blade dug into her throat, making it hard for her to even swallow, let alone speak. Her grip tightened on the knife hand.

Jackson's wheelchair came to a stop not far from them. She could see him clearly, which meant he could see the knife. Before the red eye flight, having a knife to her throat would have been cause for alarm. Now it was unfortunately a part of her daily life.

"Leese, take it easy," he warned in his serious voice. His icy eyes were cold, almost as cold as his emotionless voice. He almost sounded bored.

"Hello, Rippner."

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I know you."

Lisa frowned. _What are you doing, Jack? We don't make small talk with killers!_

"It doesn't really matter… not this time. You see, you're all the way over there. By the time you move, even if you could walk, she'll be headless."

"Really? Prove it. Kill the bitch."

If the knife hadn't been there to keep her jaw in place, Lisa knew she would've been gaping. She always knew Jack was a self-centered bastard. She just hadn't known how much of a self-centered bastard he was.

"If you say so," the attacker said, the knife slicing deeply into her throat.

**Author's Notes:**

Here's an early Christmas present for everyone. I hope everyone has a good holiday. I'll probably add the next chapter tomorrow since there's such an evil cliffhanger.

Sorry about the long delay—the first part of the chapter was easy to write, the ending—not so much. Plus my heart's not been in my writing lately. My grandmother's really ill from cancer and in ICU now. I'm either there or at work lately.

Anyways, enjoy and please keep the reviews coming!

Lisa Reisert- Thanks for the review! There's gonna be more smooching to come, if they can stay out of trouble for more than a few minutes! :)

Patriot16- Thanks! There's another chapter ready to roll to make up for the long lag time between chapters.


	22. Chapter Twentyone: Die at the Same Time

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing except two feet of snow on top of my car!

**Chapter Twenty-one**

"_He said to lose my life or lose my love/That's the nightmare I've been running from…But a desperate fear flows through my blood/Our dead love's buried beneath the mud/Let's grow old together/And die at the same time…" ~ __**To Lose My Life**__ by White Lies_

This was all just another game.

Jackson held his ground as much as he just wanted to jump into action. He could see the hatred mixed with fear on Lisa's face. She didn't know what he had planned. Hell, he didn't even know it himself.

If he hadn't been trapped in the damn wheelchair, perhaps he wouldn't have to take such a big risk. If he were mobile, then he could go hand-to-hand against this jerk and keep Lisa out of it. This was his fight, not hers. Their attacker knew that, yet he used her as a shield.

Only his feelings worked for him, rather than against him. Their attacker assumed he would want to protect Lisa. He didn't anticipate Jackson caring enough that he would risk her life.

He threw her straight to the hungry wolf in the apartment's living room, letting the knife cut her slender throat.

The stranger tossed her aside like a rag doll, blood splashing across the yellowed walls and his clothing.

Lisa's hand pressed against the gaping wound, the blood flow hardly staunched by her pale hand. She gasped for air, her green eyes wide in fright and pain. He could hear her choking on her own blood.

Jackson seized the moment, launching himself at his man. No one else could touch Lisa. She belonged to me. Her life was his to take. When he tired of her, he'd kill her. Not until then. She couldn't die like this.

He took back control, the Swiss knife in his hand when he buried the small weapon into the stranger's chest. The blade only went in a few inches, not quite puncturing the heart. The stranger grunted as they fell to the floor in a tangled heap, Jackson's useless legs unable to support his weight.

The knife twisted in the wound, blood leaking around the sides of the small stab. The knife stayed put, keeping most of the blood inside the stranger.

The attacker went to pull the knife out of his chest at the same time Jackson's hand closed on the butcher knife. Lisa's lost weapon now belonged to him.

"Who sent you?" Rippner demanded, the vicious blade digging into the other man's stomach.

"No one."

"Lie to me again and I'll start cutting off fingers. I have all night."

"So do I."

It took all of his strength to stay somewhat upright. His left arm supported his body, the right hand holding the knife. He could feel his arm shaking under his weight. He couldn't act on his threats. He just hoped his semi-captive didn't know that.

"Who sent you?"

"An old friend."

"Mine or yours?"

"Does it really matter?"

His blue eyes narrowed. "To me it does."

"Listen, Rippner. All I know is that you fucked up. You knew what would happen the moment you took the job. Not only is Keefe still alive, you left a witness alive—just so you could fuck her. Though I can't imagine why..."

The knife cut into his stomach, leaving a long cut. The trapped man hissed as Jackson's weight pressed down a bit more on the cut, opening it further.

"Leave Lisa out of this."

"Too late. You should've killed her… you might've lived…"

"Who sent you?!"

A sly smile from the other man. "You know the answer, Jack the Ripper."

Fury took over, causing the knife to twist in his gut. There was a loud howl from the stranger. "Did Hamilton put you up to this?"

"Ask him yourself…" coughed the other man.

Jackson scowled. _This is a waste of time. Arrogant prick._

He ripped the knife free, ignoring the rapidly expanding pool of blood from the man's stomach. He blocked out everything except his target. He could see the Adam's apple bobbing in his throat and the veins that throbbed near it. Blood pounded beneath the skin.

With one sharp, deft slice, Jackson severed two arteries. Blood splashed his skin, warm and wet.

A few quick gurgles were all the man had time for behind before his eyes lost their spark. His body continued to pump out the rest of his blood.

"That's for Lisa," he muttered, crawling over to her fallen frame.

Using his last bit of strength, he turned her over.

Her hand held the gash in her throat, blood slipping past her fingers to stain her pale skin and the shag carpet. Her eyes were half-closed, her chest barely moving.

Jackson fell onto his side. The hem of her shirt dangled in view. His left hand grabbed it, slowly tearing a strip away. The delicate material yielded to his hands quickly.

He pulled himself up to her head, using the shag carpeting for hand holds like a climber. The fabric went around her neck, helping put pressure on the wound. She'd still lost a lot of blood. He could feel it leaking through the flimsy fabric under his fingertips.

The rust-colored liquid seeped into the carpeting, the dark color a stark contrast to the beige shag. It looked like a tie-dye rug. There was too much blood escaping her body. The rug absorbed the warm blood, holding onto it like a sponge.

"Hang on, Leese. I'll get help. Just… hang on."

Jackson turned away, pulling himself toward the front door. Lisa's purse had to be nearby. She always kept a cell phone in it. He used to carry his own, but not since being shot. He couldn't risk dropping it from his wheelchair. Plus, he was never alone.

He tipped the purse on its side, the contents scattering all over the rug. Sure enough, a small flip phone was buried in the mess.

Jackson rested on his side, the phone in his left hand. He dialed Kat's number without thinking. 9-1-1 still wasn't safe. It was best to keep this between themselves and Kat's contacts. Lisa did that much for him. He could do it for her.

"Lisa? What's wrong?" Kat answered.

"It's me. She's bleeding… we need help."

"Jack?"

"Someone broke in. He got to her. Slit her throat."

"Is she—"

"She's hurt badly."

"We're on our way, Jack. Is she conscious?"

"No."

"How much blood?"

"One pint… maybe two…" he guessed, unable to look at her prone figure.

"Hang in there, Jack. Don't do anything stupid."

The line went dead.

_Too late for that, Kat…_ he mused, pulling himself back toward Lisa.

**Author's Notes:**

I actually did post the day after! Yay, me! Anyways, big thanks to my beta, **cypris88**, (sorry if I spelled it wrong, it's been a looong day). Thank you so much for all the well-wishes. Unfortunately, my life story has a sad chapter right now. Hopefully I will post again in December, but I don't know for sure. New chapters will be back in January for sure. Have a Happy Christmas, etc. and a Merry New Year!


	23. Chapter Twentytwo: I Want Your Revenge

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything. Sorry!

**Chapter Twenty-two**

"_I want your love and I want your revenge…Because you're a criminal as long as you're mine…" ~ __**Bad Romance**__ by Lady Gaga_

Sixteen stitches later, the gaping wound in her neck was successfully closed. Once again Aidan did the honors. Surprisingly, despite the deep slice, her vocal cords were intact. Jackson even donated blood for Aidan to use in her transfusions.

All that remained was an unconscious Lisa.

She disappeared in the cream-colored bed sheets of the makeshift hospital bed. Jackson barely recognized her now. This pale body lying still wasn't the Lisa he remembered. This shell couldn't belong to the feisty woman who had stolen his heart. Yet he stayed at her side.

His reward was to be the first person to see her open her green eyes after almost losing her life. She could have very easily died in his arms. If she had, it would have been his fault. It was his dumbass mistake that put her at risk.

"Why are you here?" Lisa demanded. Her voice was little more than a whisper.

"Someone had to make sure you were still breathing."

"Jackass," she muttered.

"Now, now, Leese. You might want to settle down before you rip out those stitches."

The glare he got in return should have upset him. All it did was cause him to smirk at her from his wheelchair. He deserved all of her complaints and nasty comments. He did this to her.

_Is this what… guilt feels like?_

_*~*~*~*~*~*_

"I think it's safe to say the apartment's blown," Aidan began, sitting down on the edge of his wife's bed down the hall. Her father lounged in an overstuffed chair a few feet away.

Kat scooted closer to Aidan. They'd called Carter in as soon as Jackson called them in panic. Her head rested against his shoulder. Providing top-notch medical care in their spare room was becoming a routine.

"Not to mention their cover," Carter muttered.

"Not necessarily," Kat said, a devious look on her face. "Sure, Jackson's easy to find in his chair. But what if he was strong enough to walk without the chair? A few modifications… he could be a customer."

"And Lisa? What do we do about her?" her father asked, clearly not impressed with her half-assed plan. "She can't be a customer as well."

"She becomes me. And Jackson… the whole customer thing is temporary. Once he can walk again I'll set up a cover id."

"I don't think the bank's such a good idea, Katy," Aidan said gently. Kat's head turned, facing his.

"Why not?"

"Okay, let's not even get into the whole robbery business, okay?"

"That was one time!"

Aidan stood up, the bed springs creaking as his weight disappeared. "If you want to get them killed, that's fine with me. I just won't let you do this to yourself."

"Do what?" his wife demanded.

"The stress; the blame. Katy, you're running yourself into the ground. They're good people, but you need to focus on yourself."

"I've had weeks to do that."

"You need a few more weeks then," he said quietly. "I can't watch you kill yourself like this. You're killing yourself and them."

She shook her dark-colored head. "I'm trying to help them! I lost my baby trying—"

"Katy, this affects me, too. I love you too goddamn much to watch this. As soon as Lisa's awake… we're handing this mess over."

Carter cleared his throat. "Now that you two have had your idiotic squabble, could we possibly get down to business?"

Husband and wife stared at each other, eyes narrowed, before converging on her father. Carter had his arms folded casually across his chest. He seemed entirely too used to these types of conversations.

"Fine," the Murphys both snapped at the same time, too stubborn to put their feelings aside.

"As for the apartment, it's gone. The company can spin some stories to buy a bit of time, but these guys… they're gonna want confirmation of the kill. For whatever reason, they want Rippner and Lisa dead," Carter said, still reclined in his chair.

"Do you have any idea who we might be dealing with?" Aidan asked, sitting on a window ledge away from his wife. Kat had already reclaimed the bed and her blanket.

"Judging by the sloppy shots… they're not real professionals, at least, not top of the line. Not amateurs either. Somewhere in between skills wise," Carter mused aloud. "There's a grudge here. Having Rippner dead seems to be a priority and Lisa is more than collateral damage judging by the last attack."

"So… an ex-partner?" Kat suggested.

"No, Rippner's a loner. An employer, perhaps."

"Like the Luxurious Disaster?" Aidan said, reaching for a pad of paper on a nearby desk. "Down in Miami."

"You mean, the assassination?" Carter took the floor. "I remember that… it's around the time I picked up Rippner. That hotel needed serious renovations after what his people did to it."

"Wait… are you talking about the Lux Atlantic… the attempted assassination of that government talking head, Ken-something?" Kat tried.

"Keefe. Charles Keefe," Carter said. "That was Rippner's last job. I found him at the end of that job. Got him out before his team could."

"Why, dad?"

Carter sighed. "I heard the rumors. Those Russians are nasty bastards. I had a bad feeling. So I had an extraction team waiting at Lisa's father's house with an ambulance. When I heard the call over the police band, I knew something was wrong. I picked him up off the floor. I owed him that much."

"Do you think the Russians found out?"

"Honestly?" Carter said, eying his daughter. "I doubt the Russians give a shit. They did their end of the gig. Rippner fucked up his end."

"So?" Aidan interrupted. "If it's not the Russians, then why does the Keefe assassination matter?"

"I think it's the person who _ordered_ the hit. It's the only common link between Rippner and Lisa."

*~*~*~*~*~*

He did not bother to turn around this time. His assistant knocked, came in when prompted, and took a seat. He continued to stare out his office's window and into the busy Washington, D.C. street below. He loved staring at ant-sized people creeping around.

"Well?" he demanded.

"They've been taken care of. Both of them."

"Did they suffer?"

"Her neck was sliced open. Bled to death. Rippner… he struggled until his last breath."

"Good. The scene is all set, I imagine?"

"It's perfect. Looks like a home invasion. Couple fight with intruder, get popped. Guy runs off with a few things and splits," his assistant acknowledged.

"There's no indication that they might have talked to anyone?"

"If they did, it was to their friends. The other couple that visits them and drives them to work. They know something."

"Get me information on them. Now."

Files hit his desk. "Already got it."

He spun around, flipping one of the files open. "Katherine… Robertson? As in…"

"Robertson Technologies. That's her father's company."

"Why would an heiress to a multi-billionaire's fortune work at a crummy bank in Frederick? Why would she consort with criminals? What secrets does Miss Robertson hold?" he mused aloud, staring at a newspaper clipping with her picture. "More importantly, what does she know about Miami?"

His assistant cleared his throat. "Sir—"

"Find Katherine Robertson. Bring her here. Offer her a job or something. I want to see her. I need to question her. She's not to be harmed, unless she resists. If she resists, you know what to do," he ordered, setting the file down.

Once this mess was cleaned up, it would be time to launch another attack against Charles Keefe. Keefe had been lulled into a sense of security since the blast. He had no idea that his term in office was about to end—tragically.

**Author's Notes:  
**Here's the long-awaited next chapter. Now, I have to warn everyone—I'm working on another fan fic for another community for my little sister (it's her 15th birthday on Jan 5th) that's going to be a long fic as well as this one and my other two "Red Eye" fics. The good news is that I'm nearing the end of "Newfound Clarity". At the moment I'm thinking 30 or 35 chapters (don't know if that'll stretch out to 40 or not) to resolve the main bit of the story.

I also am polishing the next chapter right now, which I believe is the longest chapter so far and a major turning point in the story. I've been typing out chapters pretty quickly or touch-typing on my Sony Reader when at work (or scrawling notes on past chapters for continuity purposes) so hopefully my speed will increase.

Many thanks for all of the reviews for the past chapter and I hope everyone's been enjoying their new year.

Lisa Reisert- Thanks for the review! Happy New Year to you, too! :)

Lily- I agree! Thanks for the review! :)


	24. Chapter Twentythree: No Kiss of Life

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** Nope, still don't own anything.

**Chapter Twenty-three**

"_I still remember your voice, it turns my blood cold…Now tell me all your fears/I'll be your greatest fear…There's no kiss of life, no, baby, don't pretend/With your heart in your throat and a gun to your head…" ~ __**Taxidermy**__ by White Lies_

One hand kept his cell phone pressed to his ear as he ducked into the waiting Lincoln Town Car. The tinted windows were black-on-black, making it nearly impossible for anyone to see through the car. Such vehicles were common in the bustling city, full of politicians, senators, and other rich, powerful people, including the President of the United States. The city was full of dozens of nearly identical sedans. His was just one of many.

His assistant climbed in behind him while a bodyguard clamored into the front passenger seat. There was one matching sedan in front of him and two behind him that contained other members of his staff. Once the cars pulled away from the curb, they separated.

Charles Keefe relaxed into the plush leather seats as his wife continued her stories of the day in his ear. He mumbled several "uh huhs" and other non-committal sounds to let her believe he was listening intently. It wasn't that he didn't care, he just had other things on his mind despite what every single one of the other housewives said or did at the country club that day.

Beside him, his assistant typed away at her BlackBerry, the small keys yielding under her quick fingers. E-mails and texts. That was just another daily occurrence. Cell phones were a necessary evil in the government. They needed quick communications, especially after the nationwide disaster known as September 11th.

"I'll call you later. Uh huh, love you too…" Keefe said, ending the call.

He cracked his neck, his phone still in one hand.

"How's everything at home?" his assistant asked.

"Same-old, same-old. Is everything ready for the press conference?"

"The media is just starting to show up. Here's your speech, just like we practiced. There will be time for a quick make-up touch-up before we get started."

Keefe nodded, staring out the windshield.

"Oh, the woman who called earlier?"

"Yes?"

"She'll be waiting for you at the press conference."

"Lisa will be there?" Keefe asked. The ex-hotel manager's call had come out of the blue that morning.

"I already sent a car to collect her. She'll be waiting at the hotel en-route to the conference. I thought you would want to say hi first, then give your speech, and then have a nice chat," his assistant suggested.

"Thank you. That was very thoughtful."

"It's not a problem."

Keefe settled back into his seat, his mind pushing Lisa's call aside to focus on his speech. There would be plenty of time away from the cameras that he could spend worrying about her. Right now he just had to focus on his job.

What came next wasn't part of the usual protocol for press conferences. It wasn't on his daily agenda. But what it was…well, it was life-changing.

*~*~*~*~*~*

A grand total of three months passed since Jackson was shot in the back. He'd switched homes several times since the botched apartment. Aidan and Carter were in charge of rotating the housing assignments every few days to every other week.

Lisa insisted on separate housing for the time being. Given her neck wound, Kat insisted that the other woman should stay with her and Aidan. He rarely saw her once she woke up. Instead of watching Lisa, Jackson used all of his limited spare time to work on regaining his strength.

Physical therapy became his job. Slowly and painfully, he regained some use of his legs.

Feeling began to trickle down his spine. He went from having no feeling or mobility past the middle of his back to, after a few weeks of hard work, having feeling down to the middle of his thighs and some mobility and occasional feeling in his toes.

Jackson spent more time on a walker or other similar apparatus than he did in his wheelchair as time went on. At time, when both his body and mind were exhausted and images of Lisa flickered inside his brain, he would lie in bed and watch re-runs of a TV show that Kat once mentioned in passing—_House, M.D._

The cynical main character caught his attention easily. He could sympathize with the cranky doctor, but at times found him to be irritating. It was at those times he saw a glimpse of what Kat might think of him. And if Kat, crazy, crazy Katherine, could think he was a nuisance, then what did Lisa think of him?

And, more importantly, did it matter?

*~*~*~*~*~*

Lisa rubbed her throat, still in pain from the deep slice. Maybe this was a bit of what Jackson went through after he stabbed her. Turnabout was fair play, but this…this was pushing it, even for Jack.

She turned onto her other side, still hiding under the thick covers in Kat and Aidan's spare room. She'd been avoiding everyone since waking up. Kat didn't care—she just let herself in all the time. Aidan provided medical care when necessary, such as the twice-daily bandage change.

As for food, Lisa didn't have much interest. Not that it mattered when Kat came bearing trays every few hours in an attempt to coax her into eating.

She sighed, digging further into the bed. Lisa knew hiding wouldn't solve anything, especially not after the latest attempt on her life. It wasn't worthwhile to keep lurking in the dark, waiting for the monster in the closet or under the bed to come and kill her.

Living her life in fear was akin to not living at all. She didn't want to do that. At the same time, she didn't know what else to do. She couldn't face Jackson, not after what he did. He might as well have just taken a blade to her skin.

_I'll never forgive you this time…_

The bedroom door opened slowly, Kat sliding inside.

"How's the patient?"

Underneath the covers, Lisa grumbled, "Tired."

"How? All you ever do is sleep."

"I know."

"Jack's learning to walk again."

"Goody for him. Now he can walk off a cliff…"

The bed moved as Kat bounced onto the end. "A cliff? Lisa, he feels really bad—"

"I'm sure all the sociopaths know that line."

"He means it. He's worried about you."

"He has a really funny way of showing it," Lisa mumbled under the covers.

Her friend sighed theatrically. "Sure, he's an ass, but he cares about you. He won't admit it, but then again, neither will you. Jack just… he doesn't know how to show he cares. He's spent his entire life trying to be emotionless, when he's really… he's like you."

"That's absurd."

Kat moved closer. "Is it?"

_Jackson and I couldn't be more different, right?_

The covers were slowly peeled back by Kat's pale hand, revealing a disheveled Lisa. "Give him a chance at redemption. I know it's hard, but he's not as evil as he appears. Give him a chance…"

"I already have—"

"He saved our lives, Lisa. No matter what he's done before, he did that much. He saved us and Stacy. He didn't need to. What happened in the bank had nothing to do with him. But Jack put his life on the line. He did it for _you_."

Lisa sat up, her back against the headboard. _He did? Why didn't he…?_

_ Would you have believed him?_

_ No… not then._

Images flickered in her mind. In the apartment, Jackson took the offensive. In a _wheelchair_. He put himself in the line of fire and told her to stay put.

_But,_ the devil on her shoulder urged her, _he let the guy cut you up. He threw you to the wolves. He knew what would happen._

_ Did he? He's a sarcastic jackass by nature; did he really think the man would--?_

_ Well, it wasn't his neck, now, was it?_

Lisa closed her eyes tightly, her body trembling. Her mind raced, outpacing her beating heart. Could Kat be right about Jackson? Or did he plan for her to die?

_Then why call Kat? Why would he do that? He could've let me bleed to death…_

But he didn't. Jackson stopped the blood flow enough to buy her time. He called the only people they could trust to help. He got her help. He sat at her bedside. Why would he do that? If he wanted to kill her, why would he go to such extreme lengths?

_To keep his cover intact, _the devil suggested.

_Or because he cared,_ the angel insisted, siding with Kat.

"Lisa? Are you okay?" Kat asked. Lisa could feel her friend's hands on her shoulders.

"Fine…" she lied, her head swimming.

"KAT!" Aidan shouted from somewhere else in the house.

His pace quickened, abandoning his usual stealth in return for speed. "KATHERINE!" he called out again.

"In here!" his wife answered.

Aidan ducked into the room, his longish hair sticking up in odd places from his quick run. "Come quick. You too, Lisa."

"Why? Aidan, what's wrong?" Kat asked, sitting up straighter, her hands leaving Lisa's weak body.

"Come," he urged. "C'mon!"

Kat shot Lisa a helpless look as Aidan grabbed her hand, tugging her down the hallway.

Lisa pulled a blanket around her shoulders, stumbling after them out of curiosity. She barely noticed that she'd left the bed or that she was only wearing pajama shorts and a long shirt as she followed her friends to their own bedroom.

The large, flat-panel television hanging on the wall was tuned to a news station. Banners scrolled across the bottom of the screen with tiny bits of information as some sort of wreckage burned in the background. Police tape and sirens only added to intensity.

"This footage is streaming live from Washington, D.C. at the site of a tragic car accident that occurred earlier this morning. On impact, the cars burst into flames. So far, there are no survivors," the announcer's voiceover said, probably a taped segment that had run over and over while they waited on actual news.

"The occupants of one of the cars has been identified as the deputy director of Homeland Security, Charles Keefe, an assistant, another man who worked for the director, as well as his drive. Charles Keefe became a household name back in August when the luxury hotel he was staying in exploded after a missile blast aimed at his suite.

"Mr. Keefe has taken many controversial stances in his term—"

The green type 'mute' appeared at the bottom of the screen.

"Fuck," Katherine Murphy breathed.

"Damn straight," Aidan said. "This… this has to do with what happened in the apartment."

Lisa looked up. "What? They said it was an accident—"

"A car accident? Really? Where the car actually caught on fire?" Kat challenged. "Lisa, that's about as likely as pigs flying nowadays. If he hit an oil tanker, yes, but another car? No, this is suspicious. This had to be rigged."

"How? No one can get to Keefe since Miami," Aidan said.

"I could," Lisa said softly.

The Murphys turned to face her.

"Charles Keefe trusted me. That's why Jackson needed me. He knew that if I changed the room number that Keefe would stay. Cynthia told me that the security team wanted to back out. Keefe okayed the change once he heard my name. Keefe would listen to me. I'm the only person outside of his secure world that he trusts," Lisa said quietly.

"Oh, shit."

"What?" Aidan demanded.

"If Keefe cared about her… he could be manipulated. What if he thought he was doing her a favor? Or meeting her?"

"That's nuts."

"Actually, it's not," Lisa said. "He gave me his personal number after what happened. Said to call if I ever needed anything."

"JACKSON!" the Murphys bellowed together, worried looks etched on their faces.

_Does this mean… I'm the reason Keefe's dead? Is that why that guy tried to kill me?_

**Author's Notes:**

There's a superb JxL video set to this chapter's song on YouTube. It's by **Summersparkle** and it's under the title 'Jackson x Lisa: I'll be your greatest fear'. Check it out.

Also, I finally set up a playlist online with all of the chapter songs for your enjoyment between chapters or while reading. There's a link to it from my profile page. If anyone has any song suggestions, please, let me know in an e-mail or a review. I'm always open to suggestions. (So far, I can't find 'Taxidermy' in the database, when I do, I'll put it up.)

Anyways, many thanks to **cypriss88** for beta reading these last two chapters and helping me tie up some loose ends.

Lisa Reisert- Thanks for the review! :)


	25. Chapter Twentyfour: Going Hunting

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

"_I'm going hunting…To complete the mission…" ~ __**Hunter**__ by 30 Seconds to Mars_

Katherine Murphy smoothed her blouse and jacket. A pair of tailored pants covered the rest. Low heels completed the outfit. It was a stark contrast to her usual work clothes. Her healing wounds were covered rather well by the clothes.

"You don't have to do this," Lisa said, sitting on the end of her bed.

Kat turned to her. "Of course I do. You need to rest. I've had my chance. If I don't go back soon, I won't want to go back ever."

As it was, she could hardly keep from shaking. Her only saving grace was that her memories of the shooting were hazy. She just knew she'd have been worse off if she actually remembered. Kat closed her eyes.

"Just promise me… take it easy," Lisa said quietly.

"This… jackass took everything away from me. I can't let one day control me. He killed my child, Lisa. I can't sit here all day and think about her and what I could have done different. I need to do something normal. You understand, right?"

"Of course. After what Jack did, I didn't know how I could face my co-workers. I didn't think I could ever look at anything that reminded me of him without being sick. I didn't even want to go back to my dad's house. And forget planes…"

Kat shot her a half-smile. "I have to do this."

"I know."

Neither woman could have guessed at the chain of events set in motion by Kat's decision to return to work.

*~*~*~*~*~*

"She's here," his assistant said into the microphone as Katherine Robertson walked into the bank with just a slight limp.

"Good. Don't spook her. She was shot a few weeks ago. She's liable to be rather jumpy," his boss ordered from inside his D.C. office.

"Got it, boss."

He waited for the Audi to pull out of the lot. It was probably her husband behind the wheel. Not that it mattered. There weren't any bodyguards hanging around specifically to protect Katherine Robertson despite her father's considerable wealth.

Getting to the heiress would be a simple matter. Having her comply with directions was an unknown variable at this stage of the game.

Then again, that's what threats were for.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kat took her desk over, trying to make herself at home. Unfortunately, her customers' had long memories. They knew she'd been shot. Every third person stopped to ask her how she was and if they'd caught the shooter.

After two hours of interrogation, from both her employees and customers, Kat retreated to the work room. She kept the door closed, keeping the noise of the teller line shut off. She pressed her back to a vault and slid down to sit on the cool ground.

_This is too much… too soon…_

She shook her head. She couldn't let the shooter win. Not after the hell she'd been through. She couldn't run home and hide. The bank needed her. Her employees needed her.

_Your baby needed you, too…_

The ache inside her stomach gnawed away at her intestines again. If she hadn't been a smart ass—no, he was a sadist. Hell, she hadn't even known she was pregnant. If she had…what could she have even done? It wasn't like she had a gun or a knife tucked up underneath her skirt.

_Dad was right. The world is a dangerous place…_

But was a bodyguard really an answer?

_Jackson saved Lisa's life…_

Kat put her face in her hands, massaging her temples with her cool fingers. There were no actual answers to that day. No one could have predicted a robbery with two trigger-happy killers. The money hadn't seemed as nearly as important as destroying lives was.

Her life. Lisa's life. Stacy's life.

Only, it was her life that ended in a blaze of gun powder and acrid smoke. Her baby murdered by a senseless killer. Her own life hanging by a thread. A thread that would have snapped without Jackson's warning.

Jackson saved her life. He interrupted the killers and got to her in the vault. Lisa's hands held her wounds closed while Jackson waited on the ambulances. Lisa and Jackson bought her precious minutes until the ambulance arrived to take her to the hospital.

Kat knew all about the agonizing fight to save her life. Aidan had told her about it, in between small fits of tears, along with the news about their child. Their dead child.

Tears wet her hands as sobs racked her frail body. Her job had cost her a precious gift. She didn't even need to work. She just liked to. Aidan was the same way. He only took jobs every few weeks to maximize his time with her. He didn't care about the money.

"Get up," she whispered to herself, her voice trembling. "You can do this. You're a Carter for crying out loud. Just… get… up…"

Her hand closed around the handle of the back vault, using it as leverage to get back on her feet.

Kat wiped the tears away and brushed imaginary dirt off her clothes. "Pull it together," she muttered.

She looked up into a camera and then to the nearby monitor. She looked strong and confident on the screen. She looked every inch a professional. No flirty skirts for Aidan's benefit after hours or on her lunch break. Simple was today's dress code.

Kat took a deep breath and stepped back into chaos.

*~*~*~*~*~*

"Can I help you?" a female voice called across the lobby, catching his attention. He gave her a smile and stepped forward.

"I hope so. You're Katherine Murphy, right?"

The brunette tried to hide a frown. "Yes?"

"I have a proposition for you. A job offer."

"I already have a job." She took a step back, clearly nervous.

"I know, but this one… it's much better than this. It's far more suited to your level of expertise."

"What expertise might that be?"

"Psychology. You have a Ph.D. in it, correct?" he tried, knowing he had her on the hook right now. All he had to do was seal the deal.

"So what if I do?"

"My boss is looking for a consultant. Someone with a background in psychology. Someone like you…"

Katherine shook her head. "I'm sorry, but you've got the wrong person. My background is in abnormal psychology, not general psych. If you need someone for an HR department, I'm not that person."

"I know. The job is related to your talents," he pressed.

"Listen, Mr…"

"Bradley. Nicholas Bradley."

"Mr. Bradley, I'm not looking for another job. I'm quite happy where I am—"

"So that's why you're still talking to me?"

"Excuse me?" Kat interrupted.

"If you weren't slightly interested, you'd have already walked away. You want to know more, don't you?"

"No, I—"

He held out a card. "If you're still not looking for another job at 5pm, I'll be at the address on the card for an hour. Stop by."

He left before she could say another word.

*~*~*~*~*~*

"Leese?" Jackson called, his cane pushing her bedroom door open.

"Go away!" she called, a pillow just missing his head.

"I heard about Keefe. I'm sorry. I know you… cared for him," he said softly.

"This is your fault, isn't it? What did you do this time, huh? Who did you call?" Lisa demanded, appearing in his line of sight. The first word that came to his mind when he saw her was fury. She was beyond pissed off.

"Not this time. I had nothing to do with this."

"I don't believe you."

He limped into the room, relying heavily on his cane. "You should, Lisa. Last time I had a job. Now I don't. I have no reason to want Keefe dead."

"Then why is he dead?"

"The same reason Kat was shot," he answered cryptically. "I didn't kill Keefe. Fate did."

Lisa was silent for a moment, clearly thinking it over. "Then who pulled the trigger?"

Jackson shrugged, sitting on the edge of her bed. "No idea. But if it really means that much to you, I'll find out…"

"Do that."

She turned her back to him, clearly done dealing with him. He sighed, standing up.

"I forgive you," he whispered to no one as he limped out of the bedroom.

**Author's Notes:**

I'm so sorry this took so long! It connects directly to the next chapter, so I wanted to make sure enough ground was covered here to make the next chapter work and vice versa. The other chapter should be up next week. It's a long one.

Thanks for reading!

**EDITED ON MARCH 14****th****, 2010 – THANKS TO CYPRISS 88! **


	26. Chapter Twentyfive: Crash, Crash, Burn

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything. I wish.

**Chapter Twenty-five**

"_Tell me would you kill to save a life?/Tell me would you kill to prove you're right?/Crash, crash, burn… Run away to save your life…" ~ __**Hurricane**__ by 30 Seconds to Mars _

Dinner was a rather solemn affair. Kat gave a quick report on the other bank employees, but otherwise didn't speak. Lisa and Jackson didn't speak except to ask for food to be passed around. Aidan tried to strike up a conversation, but gave it up after a few minutes of stilted chatter.

Katherine was the first to leave the table. She limped into the kitchen, still dressed in her work clothes. "I'll be back!" she shouted, before the back door slammed shut behind her.

Jackson looked from Aidan to Lisa. "Did she just…?"

"Kat? Katy?" Aidan called, jumping up.

All three of them could hear a car engine rumble to life outside. That was the breaking point for Aidan, who dashed out the door, not even shutting it.

"Trouble in paradise?" Jackson asked, staring across the table at Lisa.

Lisa narrowed her green eyes. "Would you care if there was?"

"That hurt, Leese. I do care about Katherine, too."

"Yet you're sitting here."

Jackson sighed, stretching his legs out. "I know that she wouldn't want me to leave you here alone."

"You don't know that."

Lisa stood up, walking away from the table. "Last time they left me with you… I died."

"Only a little. Maybe for a few seconds."

She pulled down the collar of her turtleneck, showing off the half-healed cut and stitches. "This isn't little, Jack."

"Do you really want to compare scars with me, Leese?"

He crossed the room in three strides, his face mere inches away from hers. Lisa backed up a few steps until she hit the wall.

"If I remember correctly, it wasn't all that long ago that you nearly killed me. Remember this?" His finger tapped a round hole in his throat. "Payback's a bitch, Leese."

He leaned in closer, his breath warm on her face. She could smell a hint of his cologne. And his eyes, god, his eyes were blue.

"Really? I always thought it was a bastard," she said.

He laughed, still not giving up any ground. He even rested one palm against the wall, further trapping her. They were close, almost touching. Too close for comfort.

"You're afraid of me, aren't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Lisa said, trying to keep the tremors from her voice.

"But you're also curious, aren't you?"

"Noo…"

His nose bumped hers. "Stop lying, Lisa."

"I'm not."

"Good."

The last thing Lisa saw before his lips pressed against hers was that goddamn smirk of his.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Katherine whipped her tan sedan into a spot. She had about ten minutes before her job offer expired.

Her heels clacked as she hurried inside and found Bradley. The little restaurant was mostly empty despite the early hour. The lights were dim, making it hard to see far. He smiled at her, but his face showed no hint of surprise at her appearance. "What would you like to know?" he said, rather pleasantly.

"Everything."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Her lips were rather soft, like he'd always imagined. She flinched a bit a first, probably from the shock, but she never shoved him away.

No, no. Prim and proper Lisa Reisert pulled him in closer, her fingers curled around a fistful of his shirt. Her lips pressed against his, returning the kiss.

Jackson could have died a happy man at that moment.

*~*~*~*~*~*

"So, what do you think?"

Katherine set down her glass. "I'll take it. Just give me two weeks—"

"No, no. It can't wait that long. We need you now or not at all."

She shook her head, dark curls bouncing. "I haven't even given notice—"

"They'll understand. After all, you were… injured recently, weren't you?"

"Excuse me?" Kat eyed him suspiciously. It was strange enough that Mr. Bradley knew about her degrees, but for him to know about the shooting? Why was this man so hell bent on hiring her?

"The robbery. I assume you were there?"

"Yes..."

"Well, if you would rather stay at the bank…" Bradley baited, standing up.

"No, no! I would love to take the job, it's just… I need some time. I have to talk to my husband…"

"If you want this job, I need to know in the next five minutes, or I'm off to the next interview."

Kat bit her lip. It was a dream, this psych gig. This was why she'd studied psychology to begin with. Understanding the criminal mind helped keep her sane after everything she'd been through. For the first time since being rejected by the Federal Bureau of Investigation, Katherine had a career path, or at least a shot at one.

Only, she didn't know a damn thing about her would-be employer.

"I'll take it."

*~*~*~*~*~*

One of the windows in Kat and Aidan's kitchen imploded.

The force of the blast knocked Lisa and Jackson to the floor, Jackson shielding her with his body on pure instinct.

Lisa coughed, dust swirling around them.

"Stay down…" he urged.

Metal clinked against the tile floor. Jackson turned his head, seeing a canister roll toward them. A flash-bang most likely.

"Cover your ears and close your eyes!"

Lisa looked up at him like he was crazy. Maybe he was. They'd know in a few seconds.

His ice-cold eyes shut, his hands covering his ears to protect the eardrums. Flash-bangs were nasty little buggers that tended to mess with a person's hearing and vision. Flash-bangs were meant to subdue and confuse an enemy, keeping them paralyzed in a daze while others moved in.

The canister went off.

The noise was still loud, yet Jackson could bear it. As soon as it stopped, Jackson pulled Lisa to her feet.

"Follow me, Leese. Just keep up."

She didn't even bother to ask any inane questions this time. Her hand slipped inside his as he half-hauled her up the stairs to the second level.

The advantage of being attacked in the Murphys' home was that the house had several escape routes, plenty of hiding places, and a cache of weapons on the second floor. Plus, Jackson knew Katherine's house inside and out. The home field advantage was theirs.

*~*~*~*~*~*

"Good. I assume you'll be able to start tomorrow?" Bradley asked, more or less insisting.

Katherine nodded. "Yes. Where?"

He handed her a business card. She turned it over in her hand, seeing a Washington, D.C. address. An office building, most likely.

"Be there at eight o' clock."

With that, he left the stunned heiress sitting at the table.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Lisa's lips still tingled from their too-short kiss.

Of course, she hadn't been able to kiss him again. Not when the window exploded and Jackson pinned her to the floor. She actually hadn't minded that part too much. He'd been warm and she could feel some of his muscles through his shirt. He was deceptively strong.

Now they were running once again, Jackson leading her to what she hoped was safety.

Though, what was safe about running upstairs? Jackson was still weak from being in his wheelchair. He couldn't climb down from the second story safely. Neither of them could.

Not that Jackson bothered to explain as he pushed against a wall in the hallway.

His hands brushed across the drywall, feeling for something, not that she understood. She didn't understand until the wall gave way, swinging inside itself.

"What the hel—"

"Get in," Jackson said, pushing her through the small opening and into sheer darkness.

Below them, footsteps thundered.

Inside the small space, Jackson flipped a light switch, illuminating the tiny room. He pushed the wall back into place and brought down a heavy metal bar to hold the wall closed.

"What is this?" Lisa whispered, in awe. This room was like the hiding places she read about as a girl in Nancy Drew novels.

"Panic room of sorts."

"A panic room?"

"Actually, it's part of a secret passage. There is a panic room… somewhere."

"Great…but how is that gonna get us out of here?"

Jackson turned to her. "Who said anything about getting out?"

"But—"

He pressed his hand over her mouth. "Sssh…"

Voices carried through the wall. Angry, male voices.

"Where's Rippner?" one demanded.

"Don't know. No sign of him or the bitch."

"Fuck. Did anyone actually see them?"

"It was dim, boss."

"That's no excuse," the first man said. "Now… find them or find their friends. Either one. Twenty minutes and I'm setting the bomb."

*~*~*~*~*~*

_Wait…. a bomb? They're gonna blow up the house?_

Jackson looked at Lisa, a frightened little mouse stuck in this dark hiding place with him. She hadn't tried to talk once he'd sshed her. She was actually behaving for once, not challenging him at every turn. Was it possible that a tiny bit of her trusted him?

_Soon you're gonna be in a tiny bits if you don't get the fuck out of here._

He uncovered her mouth, pressing a single finger to her lips as a reminder to stay quiet.

Jackson turned his back to her, limping over to another wall in the small box. His fingers skimmed across it, hunting for the latch. With a slight creak, the wall opened into a tiny passageway. He'd have to walk sideways to get through it.

He motioned for Lisa to follow him through the narrow passageway.

He could hear her suck in a deep breath before sliding in after him. Her hand brushed his as they slipped through the passage.

Maybe twenty yards away was a ladder that led down through the walls and into the basement. It was a strange escape hatch, but it just might save their lives. Neither of them was armed and there simply wasn't time to retreat to Katherine's little armory and retrieve knives or guns.

"It's a ladder… try not to step on me…" he whispered, the light from the safe room a dim illusion.

He descended slowly, rung by rung to the basement, Lisa just above him. He listened to her shallow breaths and her nervous heartbeat. She had never been this quiet around him. Not even during their little spat.

With a grunt, Jackson found the ground. It was soft, like some type of sand or dirt.

"It's okay…" he soothed, setting her on her feet.

Lisa spun around to look at him. "Where are we?"

"Basement. There's a crawlspace ahead leading outside."

"No. No crawlspaces."

"Leese, trust me. I'm gonna get us out alive, but I need you to trust me."

"I can't. It's dark…. and slimy…"

He touched her cheek gently. He didn't need light to see her; he knew every inch of her face by heart.

"Trust me. I won't let anything bad happen."

"Last time I trusted you, I died," she spat, pushing him away.

"I know, and I'm sorry. I didn't—I didn't think."

There was a sudden boom that shook the house and the ground they were standing on. Lisa wobbled, falling into his arms. Caught off guard, Jackson fell backward into the dirt, taking Lisa with him.

Her head rested on his chest, their limbs entangled for the second time that night.

"What the…?" Lisa asked.

"A bomb. A small one. They probably attached it to the stove's gas line."

"If the house is…"

"We need to go, Leese. Or we're gonna get buried."  
*~*~*~*~*~*

Unable to locate his wife's old sedan, Aidan turned around. It wasn't like Kat to run off without telling him what she was doing. She never just disappeared without warning.

He turned onto his street at the same time a fireball light up the night sky and an explosion shook the earth.

Aidan Murphy slowed his car. He carefully counted houses down the sleepy block.

"Shit!"

He slammed the gas pedal down. The house alight with fire was his own.

**Author's Notes:**

Not too much, but there was a bit of JxL action. I know, I know… every time they kiss something happens. Hopefully this chapter isn't too unbelievable. The bomb was aimed at Lisa and Jackson, not Kat and Aidan. That's what the job is for—eliminating Kat and Aidan once they figure out what the pair knows.

Thanks for all the reviews! Enjoy!

I AM the Batman Dag Nab It- Thanks! The last chapter was a set-up thing. ;)

**EDITED ON MARCH 14****th****, 2010 – THANK YOU CYPRISS88! **


	27. Chapter Twentysix: Always Me Alone

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** Nothing and no one belongs to me… except Kat and Aidan.

**Chapter Twenty-six**

"_And this is not a case of lust, you see/It's not a matter of you versus me/It's fine the way you want me on your own/But in the end it's always me alone…I had a vision I could turn you right/A stupid mission and a lethal fight/I should have seen it when my hope was new/My heart is black and my body is blue…" ~ __**My Favourite Game**__ by The Cardigans_

Aidan's car fishtailed as he swung into his driveway. Flames licked the sides of the house, some having punched through the windows on the upper levels, and others eating away at the exterior. The air was thick with smoke.

"Kat? Jackson? Lisa?" he called, jumping out of his car.

What if they were trapped inside? Had Kat already come back home?

With his head spinning, Aidan ran toward his home, Kat's little dream home. A dream turned into a nightmare.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Coughing, Jackson and Lisa crawled underneath the house. Floorboards creaked ominously above them. He went first, giving Lisa a visual to follow. He could feel her hand brushing against his ankle every few seconds as if to make sure he was still there.

He liked those brief touches.

Jackson's hand rubbed against wood. A ladder.

"We're going up, Leese," he informed the petite woman on his heels.

He went up the short ladder to find a set of metal doors blocking them in. He pushed against the doors, feeling for a handle or a latch. He didn't feel any.

"Hey! We're down here!" he called, hoping firefighters had arrived. The smoke was thickening in the tunnel as the house crackled overhead.

"Jack? Why aren't you moving?" Lisa said, her voice trembling.

"Don't worry. HEY! OVER HERE!"

Jackson banged on the door, cursing his stupidity. Of course the damn exit was locked. There was probably a padlock on the other side. He'd brought them into this tunnel to die.

"Jack?"

He turned to face the woman standing up beside him in the small space. "What?"

"Are we gonna die?"

"Probably."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Aidan unlocked the front door, coughing through his shirt sleeve as he stepped into the smoke-filled hallway. "Lisa? Jackson? Hello? Anybody?"

He went further into the house, almost crawling along the floor.

There was a sudden explosion and flames shot across the hallway, blocking him from the kitchen. Aidan cursed, the heat searing across his skin.

Wood creaked overhead. The house was being to give way.

"LISA? JACK?"

Nothing. If they were still inside, they were either unconscious or already dead. He hoped they were already dead, not slowly roasting alive.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Lisa coughed, leaning against Jackson for support.

At least she wouldn't die alone. Even if it was Jackson, it was better than dying alone trapped underneath a burning house.

"You know, Leese… this wasn't how I pictured tonight…"

"Funny, Jack. I thought the same thing."

"I guess we're just not meant to be."

"Maybe you should stop trying to kiss me," she countered.

She couldn't see him in the dark, but she could feel him. His hand touched her face, stroking her cheek, as he leaned forward. "Never…"

His lips were dry and cracked from the heat of the raging fire, but Lisa didn't care. She didn't care that he'd dragged her down into this tiny hole to begin with. She didn't care that they were dying. None of it mattered at the moment.

Her defenses were down. The past no longer mattered.

Lisa kissed him back, her body pressing against his.

His hands slipped down her shoulders, her arms, and her back. Hers snaked up his neck, pausing briefly at the scars she caused before finding his dark hair.

Entwined together, using this stolen moment, a moment that might be one of their last, Jackson and Lisa finally shared their feelings. They didn't need to speak—their actions said it loud enough.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Aidan Murphy retreated from his house. He could hear sirens in the distance. It would be too late to salvage the house, too late to save anyone left inside.

Unless Jackson made it into a secret passageway.

He paused to cough, his lungs filled with smoke. The easiest way into the house was the cellar crawlspace. It was in a part of the house that wasn't completely covered in flame. Maybe they were on their way.

Aidan hurried over to the metal doors. A padlock held a heavy bar in place. He fumbled with his keys for a moment before finding the one that fit the padlock. The bar creaked as he worked it free from the tight space.

The hinges protested loudly as he pulled the heavy doors open.

Smoke floated up, causing him to suffer another coughing fit.

"Hello?" a groggy male voice called from below.

"Jack?"

"Aidan! We're down here!" Lisa said.

He got up, reaching a hand down. "Hurry… the house isn't stable."

A delicate hand slipped into his. Lisa climbed up the ladder with his help. Jackson followed behind.

"How did you know we were there?" Lisa asked once they were clear of the house.

"Lucky guess," Aidan admitted. "Where's Kat?"

"She's not here, Murph," Jackson said. "It was just us and the assholes who bombed the house."

"A bomb?"

"Gas line. Plus there's the flash-bang…"

"You're sure Kat's not inside?"

Jackson put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Positive."

At that moment, the house buckled under, collapsed with the sound of cracked boards and a whoosh of flame.

The three survivors stood there, hypnotized, as they watched the flames reduce the Murphys' home to ashes.

*~*~*~*~*~*

By the time Katherine turned onto her block, the fire was reduced to small spots of flame in what remained of their house. Fire trucks blocked the street, causing her to walk past about ten houses to reach her own. The back of the ambulance was open.

Inside, underneath a thick wool blanket, Lisa lay on a stretcher. An oxygen mask covered her face, her sooty hand held by none other than Jackson Rippner. Her father's old friend looked much like Lisa, covered in sooty, torn clothes that reeked of smoke. The very smell made Kat nauseous.

"What happened?" she asked, trying not to look at what was left of her house.

"Bomb. Someone set a bomb and followed us into the house. They were after us, I think," Jackson explained, speaking for Lisa.

"A bomb? Are you kidding me?"

"I wish."

"This is nuts. Why are you guys still here?"

"Smoke damage…" He coughed for effect. "Lisa's worse off than me. I'm not leaving her here alone."

Kat sighed. "Where's Aidan? He's gotta get you guys out of here before someone finds out you're alive."

"Looking for you. Goddamn it, Kat!"

She spun in the street, facing her husband. He frowned at her, his face showing his barely restrained fury. His clothes were black as well.

"Aidan, look—"

"Save it," he snapped. "Do you have any idea what's been going through my mind? I thought you were dead!"

"I wasn't even—"

"That's the whole point! I didn't know where you were! I risked my neck going in that house cause I thought you were trapped somewhere. Or kidnapped. Or dead."

"I'm not. I'm fine."

She touched his blackened cheek. "I'm sorry, Aidan…"

"Sorry's not gonna cut it this time, Kat. I can't deal with this… childish rubbish."

He pulled away from her, stalking off into the night, leaving Kat with her heart at her feet. How did their day go so wrong? How did her job offer turn into her being homeless, Lisa injured, and Aidan pissed off? Why?

Katherine Murphy was about to find out. And the answers weren't good.

**Author's Notes:**

Sorry about the long wait! This chapter is rough—no betaing. I was trying to get it up. Anyways, readers of my "Alice" story will already know that I've been sick this month, so I wasn't writing for a while. Then I was a bit blocked on this story. Now I think I've got some of that solved.

I hope everyone enjoys that tiny bit of JxL. Please, please comment!

Lisa reisert- Thank you!

Patriot16- Thanks!

**EDITED ON MARCH 15th, 2010 -- THANK YOU, CYPRISS88! **


	28. Chapter 27: Where My Heart Should Be

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** Still don't own anything.

**Chapter Twenty-seven**

"_You take the breath right out of me/And left a hole where my heart should be/You gotta fight just to make it through/'Cause I will be the death of you…" ~ __**Breath**__ by Breaking Benjamin _

Katherine Murphy reported to her first day in a slightly rumpled suit she'd pulled out of the old go bag she kept in the sedan. A shower at a local motel helped her rinse away some of the soot and the smoke smell. She should have slept, but she couldn't.

Not without her blanket. Not without Aidan.

Instead, she lay wide awake, curled up under the covers of the motel bed. Her thoughts flicked back and forth, replaying the events of the day. The one that hurt the most was the most recent.

_"Sorry's not gonna cut it this time, Kat. I can't deal with this… childish rubbish."_

Aidan left her. After everything they'd suffered through, every enemy they'd conquered, Aidan left her. Her husband left her.

Even as she showed ID at the front desk, she couldn't stop thinking about Aidan. Was this his revenge for the loss of their baby?

"Mrs. Murphy? I'm so glad you're here."

Nicholas Bradley swooped into view, all smiles and tailored designer suit.

"Good morning, Mr. Bradley." She shook his hand, managing a slight smile in return.

"She's with me," he said to the receptionist with a wink. His hand touched her back, leading her toward a waiting elevator. "How was your drive? Pleasant?"

"Not too bad. I left early this morning."

"Well, the good news is there's a small cooperate apartment a few blocks away. You can stay there until you get a place nearby if you don't want to drive all the way from Frederick…"

The elevator slowly climbed the floors. Kat tried not to look at the numbers flashing by. "I might have to take you up on that. My house burned down last night."

"Oh, how horrible!"

"It's fine… we weren't home. It's just a shock."

"You poor thing…"

"I'm fine. I'm just ready to try something new."

He smiled as the elevator doors open. "Well, you've come to the right place."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Lisa woke to the sound of the oxygen tank running, still pumping clean air through the mask on her face. It was comforting in an odd way.

She felt a hand tightened on hers. "You awake?" a rough voice said.

She looked to her side. Still slightly sooty, Jackson sat at her bedside, one hand wrapped around hers. He wore scrubs instead of his smoke-stained clothes from earlier.

"Jack?"

"Yeah…"

"You're here…."

"Where else would I be, Leese?"

She closed her green eyes for a moment. She could still remember his kiss from earlier, their dry lips meeting in unquenched passion in what might have been their last moments alive. It had been a kiss born of desperation. Or had it?

"Gone?"

He shook his head, dragging his chair closer. He didn't let go of her hand.

"Never. I don't plan on leaving you. I… I think I might… love you."

*~*~*~*~*~*

"Mrs. Murphy, this here is our boss…" Bradley said, leading her into the office.

"Oh, it's nice to meet you, Mr…" Kat said, offering her hand.

"Names aren't important. You can just call me 'John'."

"Okay, _John_…"

He shook her hand, smiling at her. "Welcome to your new job, Mrs. Murphy. How does it feel?"

"How does what feel?"

"Oh, knowing that you are about to change history…"

Kat took a seat in front of her employer's desk, more than a bit off-put by his choice of phrases. "History? How would I change history?"

"The work you will do here… it will change the history books, Katherine, may I call you, Katherine?"

She nodded, still not understanding how her psychological research would change history. Any breakthrough she made would be a credit to her profession, but it wouldn't be a worldwide phenomenon. She wouldn't change history.

"I knew you were the one for the job the moment I came across your file," John continued, sounding almost as pleased as a kid on Christmas.

"Wait… my file? I never applied for a job here."

He smiled at her. "You applied at the FBI for special agent training, did you not?"

"Maybe—"

"One of the perks of my position, Katherine, is that I know everything that goes on around here. I know about all the new hires, the potential hires, and the job openings. I know everything, Katherine."

_Now you're really starting to creep me out…_

"Okay…."

"I'm scaring you, aren't I?"

"Just a bit," she admitted. "I'm just very confused right now."

"Good." He slipped a file across his desk. "I want a profile on this guy, right now. Just a little test, you see."

"A test?"

"I heard you are the best at picturing who would do what. I wonder if that has anything to do with your…past?"

"I'm just very good at psychology," Kat argued, trying to ignore the shiver coursing down her spine.

"Prove it. Give me a profile of the UNSUB."

Kat opened the file, flipping through the papers. There weren't more than about twenty pages worth of information. Big sections were missing and some parts were completely blacked out—redacted is what her father called it—which made it harder to see the person behind the crimes.

Witness statements were useful, but there were notes that all the witnesses mysteriously disappeared or died shortly after reporting the crimes.

"Most likely, he's got a very high IQ, not to mention a shitload of hubris. But it's his cocky attitude that will get him caught. He likes to work alone. He doesn't trust people and he doesn't like loose ends. He probably has a form of OCD."

"Good, good. How would we catch him?"

She tossed the file down on the desk. "You don't. Your UNSUB died in Miami, Florida."

"I'm sorry?"

"I think the alias he used on that job was 'Jackson Rippner'. This guy you're looking for…it's the same guy. He's already dead."

"What makes you think that it's him?"

"First off, you wouldn't give me a test that you didn't already know the answer to. Second, this case got a lot of publicity. I may hate the news, but I do remember MOs. This was Rippner's. Too bad he's dead."

"What makes you think he's dead?" John asked.

"He died in Miami. The day that it was announced that someone tried to kill Deputy Director Keefe."

"Oh, you heard about that?"

"Who didn't?"

"So you don't actually know Mr. Rippner?"

"Should I?" Kat countered, not liking where this was going.

"Considering he was your co-worker… I would think so."

He flashed her a picture, taken with the bank cameras, of her and Jackson talking inside the bank.

"He…He's Jackson Rippner? I thought his name was Tom…" Kat lied, her surprise real. _Shit, Jack… what did you do?_

"He was seen in your car with you, your husband, and your friend. What's her name again, Katherine? Linda? Lucy?"

"Lisa?" she said softly.

John snapped his fingers. "That's right, it was Lisa! Lisa this, Lisa that… she took your place, didn't she?"

"So?"

"So, now that's two people you shouldn't have even known living with you. And I must say, Mr. Rippner looks really good for a dead man."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Lisa sat in stunned silence for a moment after Jackson's confession. Love? Was that even possible for him? Psychopaths couldn't feel emotions….could they?

_But is he really a psychopath?_

"Leese?"

"I'm fine…" she whispered. "Fine…"

"You sure? You don't look fine."

"I'm sure…"

_Don't ask me again, Jackson. Don't…_

The oxygen tank pumped in the background, filling up the void between them. Lisa shut her eyes, willing herself to sleep. She couldn't take this closeness. This uncertainty between them. It was the metaphorical elephant in the room.

But even with her eyes closed, she could remember the heat, the passion, that sparked between them in the crawlspace. Sure, part of it was probably because they should have died, but what if part of it was real?

"Lisa… I mean what I said."

"What?"

"I don't just think—I know. I love you, Lisa Reisert. I've probably loved you since before we met. Somehow during those six weeks and what came after… I feel in love with you. I've never…never felt like this before, Leese…" Jackson admitted, his thumb stroking her hand.

"Jack…"

"You can hate me. I won't blame you. I deserve it. I've done some horrible things in the past. If I could change them, I would. But I can't. I have to live with my regrets. This is one regret I can't take."

Her head spun. Everything she thought she knew about Jackson had literally been turned upside down.

_Maybe he's more human than we give him credit for… Maybe he's just as damaged as the rest of us…_

She put one hand on top of his. "I don't… I don't know what to say. Or do."

"You don't have to do anything," he breathed, closing the gap.

His lips, still dry from the fire, brushed against her forehead. The kiss he left was feather light. It felt like heaven.

Her green eyes closed for a moment. _Why does it have to be you? Why do you make me feel like this? Why can't it be someone else—anyone else?_

Temptation. Lust. Heat.

Lisa's heart said yes, but her brain said no. After all, how do you trust the man sent to kill you?

*~*~*~*~*~*

Aidan stepped into the hospital room. He wore a wrinkled t-shirt and jeans. He knocked on the wall after entering. "I hope I'm not… interrupting anything…"

Lisa and Jackson—mostly Jackson—sprang apart.

"Where's Kat?" Lisa asked from behind her oxygen mask. Her voice was rather clear over the whirring of the machinery.

"That's actually why I'm here. Have either of you heard from her today?"

Jackson shook his head. "No, I thought she was with you."

Lisa nodded in agreement.

"We had a fight last night. I've been trying to reach her all morning," he admitted, sinking down into one of the uncomfortable hospital seats. It reminded him of a friend's patio furniture. Mesh and metal was never a good combination.

"Maybe her cell's dead…" Jackson suggested.

"Maybe…"

"I wish I knew," Lisa said. "I haven't seen her."

"Me either. Did you trace her phone? Or her car?"

"The GPS on both is blocked. Kat hates being tracked," he admitted, his hand almost in his hands.

"What did you fight about?" Lisa asked softly.

"The usual…plus I told her I couldn't deal with her right now. She almost gave me a heart attack last night. I thought she was still in the house!"

"You were worried…"

"I was a jackass, Lisa. There's no other way to sugarcoat it. I was…I thought I'd lost her…"

"Tell her…" Jackson urged, his hand holding Lisa's. "Tell her what you told us. I'm sure she'll forgive you. She still loves you, right?"

Aidan shook his head. Strands of his dark hair fell into his eyes. "I don't know. She hasn't been herself since the robbery. It's like she left for work that day and a stranger took her place."

"She went through a major trauma, Aidan…" Lisa said. "It's normal."

"I've never… we've never spent the night apart. Not in… years. She hates the night time," he said, lost in his memories. "She's afraid that she's going to wake up alone or somewhere else. I'm her lifeline…"

"Look, man, she's been through a lot. Give her a bit of time and a bit of space and I'm sure she'll come back to you. This is Kat we're talking about. She's crazy about you," Jackson urged his friend, a smile on his face. "She'll find you when she's ready."

Lisa nodded. "He's right. She probably just wants some time alone…"

Aidan sighed. "I hope you're right. Something just doesn't… it doesn't feel right."

**Author's Notes: **

Sorry about the long delay. I was working too many jobs and I was stalled for a bit story-wise. Anyways, I think I'm back on track again. There will probably be a new chapter sometime next week. I have mid-terms right now, so I don't really have time to write.

Thanks for all the reviews! Big thanks to **cypris88**, my beta, and the author of _Sanguinary_! Check it out if you haven't already. It's also JxL.

By the way, you guys are awesome reviewers. Really. ;)

Chapters 24-26 have been edited. There weren't any major changes, but they were edited.

Lisa Reisert- Thanks!

Awesome Oppossum- Thank you so very much! Sometimes choosing a song is hard for these chapters. Sometimes the songs really influence the chapter. I do plan to finish this one…it just might take a little while. Thank you! Enjoy! :)


	29. Chapter Twentyeight: Moment to Lie

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_.

**Chapter Twenty-eight**

"_It's the moment of truth and the moment to lie/The moment to live and the moment to die/The moment to fight, the moment to fight, to fight, to fight, to fight…We will fight to the death…" ~ __**This Is War**__ by 30 Seconds to Mars _

_"Mr. Rippner looks really good for a dead man…"_

Kat's head spun. Was it possible that her job offer was a lie? Why would someone track her down just for information on Jackson? How would anyone even know she knew him? Who were these people?

Her hands tightened into fists. "I don't know Mr. Rippner. You must have the wrong person…"

"No, no, Katherine," sneered John. "I have the perfect person. You have been hiding him, haven't you? Don't lie. I've seen the videos and photographs. Does your husband know how close you are to Rippner?"

"I don't know Jackson Rippner. I only know his name and his crimes from the news reports."

John slapped a folder in front of her. "Open it."

She didn't move. "No."

"Listen, Katherine. This is a matter of national security—"

"Bullshit."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't try that line on me. It's complete and utter bullshit. Jackson Rippner is dead. There's no pressing threat. He's just a look-a-like. Studies show that everyone has a doppelganger somewhere in the world. This is probably Rippner's…"

"Not likely, Katherine. Now you had better start telling the truth or losing your house will be the least of your worries…"

She couldn't help it. Her jaw dropped. "You… you did that?"

"I need you on my side, Katherine. You have information I need."

"You have the wrong person."

He put his hand on her arm. "I know exactly who I have. You're Katherine Lynn Murphy, born Lynn Carter, to teenaged parents. You were adopted and raised as Katherine Winters. You found your birth parents through a college project. Too bad they already killed your mother…"

Kat froze. _How the hell do you know about that? Dad buried it. He buried it!_

"You have me confused with someone else. I wish I could help you, but I think I'm going to pass on the job offer."

"The minute you walk out that door, Mrs. Murphy, Lisa Reisert gets a bullet in her head. You don't want that to happen, now do you?"

Kat glared up at him. "You're going to kill her anyway…"

"That depends on what she knows…"

"You're going to kill me."

John sighed. "Probably. But then again, you want to die, don't you? I can see it in your eyes…"

"You're insane."

He laughed, pushing her down into her chair as he loomed over her. "You have no idea, Mrs. Murphy. No idea at all…"

*~*~*~*~*~*

Back at Headquarters, Aidan Murphy ran a few searches, looking for her car, credit card activity—anything that might confirm where she went or what she did after he blew her off the night before. It was all he could do to not focus on the negative.

_Kat might be depressed but she's not… she wouldn't…_

Aidan tried to force that thought to the back of his mind as Kat's credit card history flooded his screen. Despite being an heiress to a multi-million dollar fortune, Kat preferred cash over plastic, K-mart over labels, and reliable over fancy. Her sedan was almost a decade old now. It had only been about three years old when she acquired it. She fixed it up, painted it tan to blend in, and got the windows tinted. She preferred to modify the reliable beast than buy a new car.

Her excuse? _It'd only get scratched up anyways or dinged…this one's already broken in…_

But that was Kat. She kept things past their prime and tried to save people and animals—sometimes machines—that others had long since given up on.

He clicked through the descriptions of various purchases, some clothes, some books, and then, bam, a hotel.

_Thanks for leaving a paper trail, Katy… _

He scribbled down the address and name. It would be best to visit in person, where he could be more convincing than over the phone. He also checked the name on the card, making sure his identification matched his wife's. They usually kept a variety of ID in their cars for emergencies, like this. And sure enough, Kat had used one of her aliases.

He jotted down the name as well before checking his gun and heading out to his car.

_You'd better be okay, Kat. I'll never forgive myself if you're not…_

*~*~*~*~*~*

The doctors weaned Lisa off the oxygen bit by bit. She'd suffered severe smoke damage. Jackson was hoarse, but she still wasn't quite breathing right.

Jackson only left her side for small amounts of time—such as to snag decent food—since they were hiding in the hospital. It was Frederick Memorial Hospital, a rather decent hospital in the heart of downtown Frederick, but still a hospital. At the moment, Lisa was listed as a Jane Doe suffering from gunshot wounds and currently in the ICU. Jackson had been checked in with some back-up identification provided by Aidan—and an embarrassing story about a kidney stone that would've made Kat laugh—and then discharged.

With Kat missing, Aidan had been reluctant to rush them to another safe house, especially since Lisa still needed medical treatment. So it was Jackson's job to protect Lisa.

They hadn't spoken much since his confession of love.

Jackson plopped back into his familiar chair at her side, munching on a sandwich from the nearby campus or maybe one of the forty-seven Subways around the block. He certainly hadn't gotten it from the cafeteria. He pronounced it inedible after one bite.

"Hungry?" she teased, her voice stronger than it had been this morning.

He nodded, his mouth full. After he swallowed, he muttered, "Starved. Had to go three blocks northwest and fight a bunch of college students for a spot in line. Then get back here and spend about fifteen minutes walking in circles around the hospital."

"Why? Did you get lost?"

"Nope. Trying to lose a tail, if I had one."

"When are we getting out of here?"

"Aidan said maybe tonight, if the doc clears you and he can find a place. But he needs to check on Kat first."

"I can't believe he ditched her like that."

"Leese, we don't know what's going on between them. It's not our place…"

She took a deep breath. "Jack, Kat's my only friend here. You're…you're whatever you are. Aidan was right… something's wrong."

"She's probably just asleep or drunk."

"How can you be so cold?" she demanded, frowning at him.

"Katherine has a drinking problem. It's genetic. Her father drinks like a fish when under stress. She does the same. She's probably just passed out."

"You think?"

Jackson nodded, "Don't worry. Aidan'll find her. She didn't go far."

She nodded, her eyes closing again. Not being able to breathe wore her out.

"Sleep, Leese. I'm not going anywhere…"

*~*~*~*~*~*

Aidan walked straight up to the desk, his gun tuck in the back of his jeans, his t-shirt draped over it. He turned on the charm that had kept him alive on the streets.

"Can I help you?" asked the girl at the front desk.

"Yes, I'm looking for my wife. Her name's Caterina Hamilton. She was supposed to check in last night. I just got off a plane and I'm running late. Could you give me a keycard?"

"Is she expecting you, Mr…?"

"Hamilton. Andrew Hamilton." He handed over his driver's license, one from another state no less, and watched her examine it.

He tried to stay calm, hoping that the desk clerk wouldn't give him too much trouble. Especially not when their IDs should match. At least when it came to names. Depending on which license she had supplied, their address might be very different.

"Do you want me to call up there?"

"Sure." He smiled at her warmly.

She picked up the phone dialing a number. She waited a few minutes and hung it back up. "There's no answer."

"She's, uh, a heavy sleeper. If I could just have a key…"

The desk clerk looked at her computer again and his ID. She handed him back the ID card along with a thin envelope underneath.

Aidan shot her a smile and mouthed a thank you.

*~*~*~*~*~*

"Look, all you have to do is let me leave and we can forget about all of this, okay?" Kat tried. "I don't even know your names."

"But you saw our faces, our offices—don't waste your breath, Katherine. You're not going anywhere."

She swallowed, wishing she'd thought to bring her gun in with her. It wasn't doing her a hell of a lot of good in her car's trunk. "What do you want to know?"

"Well, what do you know about the Miami job?"

"You mean the Keefe job? Only what was in the news."

John snorted. "No, you know much more than that, don't you? You see, Jackson Rippner was never admitted to any hospitals. His paperwork was forged later. There's no record of any official ambulance transporting his body…but you already knew that."

She closed her eyes. _Daddy, what did you do wrong? I thought it was all set up…_

"So? Records get lost."

"Not every record. Usually at least one person remembers seeing an injury as severe as Mr. Rippner's. I checked. No one saw him. Someone else got to him first. So I did a little digging and, look what I found…"

He pushed a picture of her father wheeling a stretcher in front of her. What followed was a series of shots from down in Florida, from outside the office down there, to one of their private residences. There were pictures of her father helping Jackson, of Aidan as well.

"Now why would an upstanding businessman, such as your father, James Robertson, be helping a wanted terrorist?"

"I wouldn't know. I don't see my father often."

John grabbed her by her chin. "Liar, liar, pants on fire, Katherine. You're daddy's favorite. You're the princess. You speak to him all the time."

"So what if I do?"

"Why are you helping a killer? Huh? Why are you protecting him?"

"I'm not!"

"Then tell me where he is or your husband joins the list."

Kat stared directly back at him. "Go ahead. Kill him. See if that loosens my tongue."

He backhanded her, her head snapping back. Coppery blood fell onto her tongue, her teeth piercing the end of it.

"This game is going to end badly for you, Katherine. Do you want to end up in an unmarked grave somewhere?"

Kat narrowed her eyes. "I don't care."

The man called John sighed. "I really wish you would cooperate…"

"Never."

He slipped on a pair of leather gloves. Kat watched as he reached into his desk and selected a sharp knife. It looked a bit like a scalpel to her.

She took a deep breath to prepare herself. _This is what you wanted, remember? You wanted to die…_

John grabbed her right hand. He placed it on the desk, scalpel in hand. "Last chance, Katherine. Where is Rippner?"

She gritted her teeth. "Dead. He's dead."

The scalpel came down, biting into the skin of her ring finger, just below her wedding ring. Kat couldn't control the scream that slipped past her lips. It was her scream that made the man before her grin more than seeing her blood bubble to the surface as he slowly sawed into her finger.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Aidan swiped the key card in the electronic lock. It flashed green, releasing the bolt. He put his left hand on the door knob, pushing in just a few centimeters to clear the lock. His right hand slipped his gun free of his waistband. He flipped the safety catch off.

His left hand let go of the door, his foot kicking it open as he began to sweep the hotel room, his gun aimed at any potential threat.

The room was empty, the bed rumpled. A black duffel bag rested on top of a dresser.

Aidan cleared the tiny bathroom as well, making note of the toothbrush and hairbrush on the sink ledge.

Satisfied that the room was empty, he returned to the door, kicking it closed and chaining it shut.

He took a deep breath and lowered his gun.

"Where the hell are you, Katy?" he muttered, touching the bed. It still held a small measure of warmth in one spot where the sheets were kicked back. There was no pillow on that side. Kat must have tossed it in her sleep.

She'd been there. She'd laid in that bed, possibly slept in it. She'd been there.

He dug through her duffel bag. Her clothes from yesterday were shoved inside and there were still a few changes left including two pairs of jeans and a workout outfit. The only thing missing was her work clothes—a suit and heels.

Aidan frowned. _Why would you wear that, Kat? Out of everything… why not jeans and a t-shirt?_

It didn't make any sense to him. She hadn't gone to the office and half the time she wore casual clothes and sneakers just to piss her father off. There was no reason for her to wear her suit. It wasn't like she was going to the bank—or was she?

He cursed his stupidity and reached for his cell phone.

The bank phone rang. After two rings, a woman picked up. "Thank you for calling BankFrederick. This is Cindy, how may I help you?"

"Cindy, it's Aidan Murphy. I was wondering if Katherine was in."

"That's strange… she's supposed to be here but no one's seen her."

"What time was she supposed to work?" he asked, praying she was just stuck in traffic or lost.

"Umm, she was due in about three hours ago."

"Shit. Thanks, Cindy. Call me if you hear from her, okay? The number's on Kat's desk."

"Okay, see you later, Aidan."

The phone clicked off. Aidan closed his eyes. _How can you just… disappear? Especially when you're supposed to be at work. You've never missed a day at the bank before…_

Gruesome images filled his head: Kat dead on the side of the road, her car wrecked, Kat abducted in the parking lot, Kat hurt, Kat dying.

His left hand curled into a fist. _Please, please be okay… if you're not… _

Aidan punched the wall in his frustration. Why had he yelled at her last night? Why did he push her away? Why, why, why?

_This is my fault. _

**Author's Notes:**

Sorry about the long wait between chapters! Thank you so much for reviewing and sticking with the story so far. Please keep the comments and criticisms coming!

Big thanks to my wonderful beta, **cypriss88**!


	30. Chapter 29: Eyes of a Fallen Angel

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** As usual, I own absolutely nothing except the computer I'm typing this on and my own worn out tan sedan. Jackson and Lisa belong to Wes Craven/DreamWorks Pictures.

**Chapter Twenty-nine**

"_Here I am expecting just a little bit/Too much from the wounded/But I see, seeing through it all/Seeing through, see you/'Cause I threw you the obvious to/See what occurs behind the/Eyes of a fallen angel/Eyes of a tragedy…" ~ __**3 Libras **__by A Perfect Circle_

Her world changed overnight.

Jackson's comforting—wait, when did _Jackson_ becoming _comforting_?—presence was gone. His warm touch disappeared sometime in the early morning. His chair held no remnants of body heat when she touched it.

Her green eyes glanced around, looking for other signs that he'd been there with her. His leather jacket was missing from his chair. He'd wiped all traces of his presence, right down to the coffee cup he kept on her tray table.

He'd done the unthinkable. He'd left her.

_You slick bastard…_

Lisa didn't stay angry long. She couldn't once Aidan stepped into her room.

The night had aged her friend at least ten years. His brown eyes were bleary from lack of sleep, his slight five o' clock shadow growing into a beard, his clothing wrinkled and stained. He looked like he'd been rolling around in a dumpster and quite possibly after being hit by a Mack truck.

"You're awake," he said, breaking the silence.

"So are you."

The oxygen mask was gone. It had been removed before she went to bed the night before. It was strange to breathe without the plastic mask now. Her face no longer felt as sweaty and sticky since the moisture wasn't trapped in the mask.

It still hurt to breathe. Sometimes she would stop breathing for a moment, causing herself to wake up. She jerked into a sitting position, gasping for air and clawing at her throat. A nurse would come in, soothe her, remind her to breath, then check her vitals and leave her to sleep.

Jackson held her hand during the attacks. He didn't talk much, but he was there, much like a dream.

He snorted.

"Where's Kat?" she asked quietly, not daring to ask about Jackson. She didn't want to know if he'd left for good. She didn't think she was ready for that. Not after the kisses they'd shared. She'd just started getting used to having someone to turn to beside Kat. Someone to trust.

"Gone."

Aidan slipped into Jackson's vacant chair. Lisa bit her lip. He looked all wrong in that chair. She closed her eyes, picturing Jackson's lanky frame in the chair, his cocky attitude covering him like body armor.

He sighed. "She went off the grid yesterday. I waited in her hotel room all night. She never came back. She never showed up at the bank. No one matching her description turned up at any hospitals, morgues, or police stations. It's like a black hole sucked her up."

Lisa frowned. "Just like that? No note? No call?"

"Nothing."

"Maybe she just needed a bit of space?"

"I don't like this. It feels wrong."

The wooden door slid open quietly. The two things Lisa hated about hospital rooms were that the doors never quite shut properly or they were glass.

Jackson's dark head peeked into the room, a bag of food in one hand, and a cardboard box in the other. "Morning…"

_I must be delirious…_

He walked to the side of her bed and planted a kiss on her cheek. He was in need of a shave; his whiskers tickled her skin.

_He's real. What the hell? Why did you disappear? Jackass! _

Lisa waited for him to move back a beat before slapping him. The sound of her hand connecting with his face reverberated in the hospital room. "You… bastard! You left me!"

Jackson let go of his bags. He closed the gap between them, his head cocked at an angle. "Does this mean I don't get a good morning kiss?"

She shoved him away, her body trembling in anger. _Why are you surprised? He never could keep a promise before. Why would he start now?_

"Did I miss something?" Aidan asked.

"You and me both," Jackson muttered under his breath. He picked up his bag and the box. He settled his lean frame into another chair. "Did you wake up on the wrong side of the hospital bed, Leese?"

She narrowed her green eyes at him. "How would you know? You weren't here!"

"Goddamnit, Lisa. I was hungry! I went to get food. Did you want me to take out an ad in the paper?"

"Yes!"

"Well, next time, I'll try and remember that."

"Oooo… kay. This is awkward…" Aidan said, standing up. "I'm gonna go now…"

"Stay," Jackson and Lisa said at the same time, still glaring at each other. His glare was more to annoy her than it was to frighten or intimidate her. Hers was the opposite.

Aidan sat back down. "Have you heard from Kat, Jack?"

"Not a peep," the other man said, pulling his breakfast out of the bag. He sat an appetizing bagel and a muffin down on the tray table, just out of Lisa's reach. He had his own muffin and a breakfast sandwich to eat.

As Jackson bit into his sandwich, Aidan sighed. "I just don't get it. Why would she just disappear? I know she was pissed, but this… this is getting ridiculous."

"I told you… she's drinking," Jackson said between bites.

Aidan shook his head. "She quit. After the baby… she quit."

The room went silent except for Jackson's chewing.

"Where does she go when she's upset or needs time to herself?" Lisa asked a few moments later.

"I don't know. I checked all the local spots: the gym, the warehouse, her favorite trails, and the bookstores. There's not a single trace of her. Besides, she's been a no-show at the bank _twice_. Something's wrong."

Jackson opened his mouth to speak when the box on the tray table started to ring.

Three pairs of eyes focused on the tray table. Aidan was the only one to approach it.

"Jack, where did you find that?" he asked.

"It was left at the main desk for us. Addressed to our room."

The ringing stopped.

Aidan stepped closer to read the package. The ink was smeared—it had gotten wet at some point.

"Jackson, get Lisa out of here. Now," he said in a calm voice, almost too calm.

His wife's friend stopped eating. He scooped Lisa out of the hospital bed before she could protest. "Let me know…" he said, heading for the door.

Aidan gave him a quick nod.

The box rang again as Jackson disappeared with Lisa in tow. He really hopped this wasn't an improvised bomb. He really didn't feel like dealing with one today.

Aidan used his pocketknife to slice open the packing tape. Very slowly he lifted open the cardboard flaps, revealing a cell phone resting beside a plastic baggie. The phone rang again.

Against his better judgment, Aidan picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Three o' clock today. Baker Park near the fountain. Bring Rippner or she dies," a digitized voice ordered, before the phone clicked off.

Aidan frowned. "Baker Park? Jack? Who's gonna die?"

He set the phone down on the tray table in favor of picking up the baggie. He slowly opened the plastic sandwich bag. Inside was something white—he couldn't tell if it was cloth, tissues, or a paper towel.

He unfolded the awkward paper towel-wrapped bundle. Inside, nested in a small pool of blood, was a slender finger.

A woman's finger.

Aidan stared at it in shock for a moment before looking down at the ring still on the finger. This was a message to him.

He knew the ring. He'd placed it on that delicate finger himself.

"Katy… what are you mixed up in?" he said softly.

**Author's Notes:**

I know, I know. It's short and it's been like a month since I updated. It's that time of year again – finals! I'm graduating, so I haven't had too much time to write—especially since this story requires a lot of careful plotting and revision to keep everything straight.

Please, please update! I was very saddened by the lack of reviews for the last chapter. Reviews – even just simple "please update soon" reviews make me a happy writer.

Also, please vote on the poll on my profile. It concerns all my "Red Eye" stories and the future of several fan fics. Thanks again for reading and also to my wonderful beta who helped me keep Lisa from acting too OOC this chapter. Enjoy!


	31. Chapter Thirty: You Can't Make It Right

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** Don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Thirty**

"_They don't know what we been through/They don't know 'bout me and you/So I got something new to see/And you just gon' keep hatin' me/And we're just gon' be enemies/I know you can't believe/I could just leave it wrong/And you can't make it right…" ~ __**Heartless**__ by Kanye West (as covered by the Fray)_

The small cotton wad resting on the stub of her finger did little to stop the blood flow. Katherine was still in a state of shock. That bastard had actually removed her ring finger. He'd taken her wedding ring as well.

"If you won't cooperate with me, Katherine, then I know who will," John warned, a cell phone in hand. "Someone who will be very upset to get your finger in the mail."

"What are you doing?"

He dialed a number. "Getting what I want. If you won't help me get to Rippner, then I know who to call."

"Who?"

"Find Miss Reisert. Just locate her at this stage. We might need her," he ordered over the phone, smirking at Kat.

She struggled against the leather straps securing her to the office chair. _You're dead meat…_

John snapped the phone shut. "Don't worry, my pet. That's not who I was talking about."

Kat spit in his face.

Her cheek stung when he backhanded her. She held in a cry of pain.

"Do you want to lose another finger? Or should I start removing your arm?"

"I don't give a damn what you do. Just know that you won't get away with this. They'll find you. No matter where you run, they'll find you."

John laughed. "Who? Your father?"

"No. My friends. They're who you should be worried about."

"Oh, like your husband? I've got some news for you, Mrs. Murphy. He doesn't give a damn. He's not even looking for you."

"Keep telling yourself that. He's coming. I know him."

John circled around the desk, eyeing his feisty little captive. His dark eyes hid his emotions—if he even possessed them—from her. He still carried the knife he'd used to sever her finger.

_You sick bastard…_

"I spoke to him while you were taking a little nap. He doesn't care if you die. He wants nothing to do with you. According to him, you're just a 'binge-drinking, bad tempered bitch'."

Her fingernails bit into her palm. Since she'd stopped teaching defense on a daily basis, her nails had grown out. Her nails cut into the skin, releasing a fresh ooze of blood onto the chair arm. She didn't even flinch.

_Words can't break me…_

Except for the slightest niggle of doubt in her gut. The little voice that said "he's not coming".

Kat straightened up in her chair. She wasn't going to die with her head bowed. She wasn't going to cry for this sadistic piece of shit. She would survive somehow. She would escape on her own or die like a man. There would be no begging; no tears.

She wouldn't give John the satisfaction he craved.

* * *

"Where are we going?" Lisa demanded once she got her breath back.

"Somewhere safe."

She rolled her eyes. Jackson's idea of safe was most likely an underground bunker stockpiled with canned beans and automatic weapons. There was no way she was going back underground anytime soon.

"Where? Siberia?"

Her usually unflappable companion paused for a moment. "Hmm, that's not a bad idea, Leese…"

"Are you crazy? Siberia? Jack—"

His lips pressed against hers, urging her into silence. Her green eyes flew open wide as he edged closer, one hand brushing against her cheek.

Footsteps faded away before Jackson broke their impromptu lick-lock. Both parties were breathing hard thanks to the lack of air, the heady rush of danger, and just the pure tension and attraction that radiated between them.

"C'mon, we've gotta get moving," he urged, taking her hand in his.

"Yeah… we should…"

_Before I do something I really regret…_

* * *

Aidan Murphy jogged lap after lap around Baker Park. The park had several sport fields and courts, a playground on one end, a creek cutting through it, and an amphitheatre in the middle. Plenty of locals were out with their dogs or their kids.

He was conspicuously alone.

To avoid emanating a creepy child molester, he dressed in running clothes, all of which featured the nearby college's name and logo. He traded his bulky silver watch for a digital version, buried a cell phone in a deep pocket, and strapped an iPod to his arm.

Aidan looked like any average college student out for a run. Or even an average adult. He blended in with his worn-down sneakers and faded athletic wear.

No one would look at him twice.

He glanced down at the digital watch. The readout said 2:50. Ten minutes to go until the meet. Ten minutes to hope like hell his plan worked. Ten final, agonizing minutes. Six hundred seconds.

"Keep it together. You're a professional. You're a goddamn professional," he muttered under his breath.

But it was hard to be a professional when it was your loved one's life on the line. This was Kat he was fighting for. If he fucked up or the kidnapper got spooked, Kat would die. She might even already be dead.

All Aidan had to go on was a mutilated finger and her wedding ring. No handwritten notes, no phone calls, no photographs. All he knew was she was still alive when her finger was removed.

That was very little comfort to him, especially when she'd already been gone two days.

_Hang in there, Katy. I'm going to find you._

* * *

"Now, Leese, I know following directions is hard for you…" Jackson started.

Her hand cracked against his mouth. His lip split from the force.

He cracked his neck, the popping sound filling the stale air of the hotel room. It was a cheap, low-rent fleabag motel that probably hadn't seen a maid since the late 70s. Jackson, prepared as always, had brought new sheets and a comforter for the bed.

Lisa watched, trying not to tremble as he slowly traced one long, slender finger across his lip. Blood dotted his chin, his spilt lip slowly dripping crimson.

"Good hit," he said with a laugh, not striking back.

She crossed her arms, sitting down on the freshly-made bed.

"Let's start over." Jackson stood in front of her, occasionally touching his lip out of curiosity. "You are going to stay here, lay low, and not answer the door or phone."

"No."

"You don't have a choice. It's stay here or get killed. Got it?"

"What was in the box, Jack?"

He paused, finger on his lip. "Nothing."

"It wasn't a bomb. What was it? What's got you on edge?"

"It was nothing. Nothing at all."

"Then where's Aidan? Where's Kat?" she asked, her head cocked in his direction. She wanted—no, needed—answers.

"I don't know."

"That wasn't an Amazon box. I'm not that dumb, Jack."

He sighed in exasperation. "I know _that_. But you're better off not knowing. It's got nothing to do with you."

"They're my friends, too."

"This is personal, Lisa. You're better off here than on the sidelines. The less you know, the safer you will be."

"You're lying. What happened to Kat?"

He avoided her eyes. "Nothing. Just… stay here."

She grabbed his wrist. "Not until you tell me what's going on. Every bit."

"I'm late."

"Too fucking bad. What was in the box? What the hell is going on?"

Clear blue eyes met green. "You don't wanna know."

"I _have_ to."

"Fine, but I warned you."

She let go of his arm. "Well?"

"You want to know what was in the fucking box, Leese? It was a finger. A human finger. Happy now?"

Lisa paled, her bravado long gone. "Who's?"

"Who do you think? It was Katherine's."

She stumbled back, landing uneasily on the bed. "No…"

"It was her ring finger. She was still alive when the bastard cut it off. Ring and all. Aidan is furious. She's been gone a long time, Leese. Knowing her, she's dead. We're on a body recovery mission now, not a rescue mission."

"Why?"

"To get to me. That's all I'm telling you. That's why you're staying here."

She crossed the tiny room to his side. "No. I'm going with you, Jack."

"No fucking way."

"Why not? I can help!"

He snorted. "Yeah, get yourself killed. That's really helpful."

"I won't—"

"You're staying. That's final."

"Chauvinistic male pig—"

"Shut up," he snarled, one hand gripping her neck. Her pulse raced at his very touch.

She tasted the cooper of his blood as his lips met hers. It was rough, needy. This was no slow sweet kiss. This was pure passion mixed with annoyance. This was the Jackson Rippner she knew.

"I'm sorry, Lisa," he whispered, his breathing just a bit off.

"Wh—"

The pressure on her neck increased. She let out a strangled cry before her consciousness swam in pools of light.

Then Lisa was falling.

* * *

John left the office for a brief moment. Kat used the short respite to gather her wits.

_Aidan's coming. He wouldn't leave you—aww, fuck it. Grow a backbone. You're Jim's daughter. You don't need a man to rescue you._

The knife lay on top of the gleaming desk, less than a foot out of her reach.

Kat looked at the blade. Then her bound wrists.

"Fuck, this is gonna hurt…"

She rolled her left wrist against her bounds. The piece of leather strapping her to the chair creaked.

Kat took a deep breath, her wrist rocking back and forth a bit.

A loud crack filled the empty office.

She started to scream, biting her own lip to silence the cries. Her broken wrist throbbed. A quick twist had snapped it cleanly. It slipped through the leather strap with a bit of work.

Kat leaned out of the chair, tipping it forward as she reached for the knife with her forearm.

The blade slipped across the wood.

Her left hand slowly closed on the hilt, pain shooting up through her left arm. The injured arm slipped closer to the remaining leather strap.

The blade sliced through leather and flesh.

This time she screamed.

* * *

Jackson Rippner made his way across the park from the nearby intersection of Patrick and Bentz. He had his hands shoved inside the pockets of his pants. His unkempt hair covered his forehead. Sunglasses covered his distinctive blue eyes.

A daub of makeup hid his tracheotomy scar. He left the collar of his plain button-up open. His dark blue blazer covered the lethal knife at his hip. Dark jeans and sneakers dressed down his look a bit.

His job wasn't to completely hide his identity. He had another shirt hidden underneath the button-down. Even the sunglasses and jacket—a Goodwill find during his twenty minutes of prep time—were disposable. He was the bait. The lure.

Then, the trap would be sprung. That's when Jackson would do what he was good at—disappear.

He took a seat on a bench near the fountain. He had no idea who was meeting him. He didn't really care. He was only there for information. The knife at his side would finish the lackey.

Jackson knew, despite Aidan's protests, that whoever was behind this entire mess wasn't stupid enough to come alone, let alone bring Kat. The tough girl was just bait to get him there. She wouldn't be released.

Once the man behind the curtain had Jackson, Katherine and anyone else connected to him would vanish. Lisa, Aidan, and the other bank employees would all die.

* * *

His partner jogged into the meeting spot right at three.

Jackson slipped off the shades and greeted Aidan. He looked harmless in his workout clothes, iPod, and running shoes. A typical college student, not a professional killer. Good.

The two men stood back to back, each one staring at a different direction. They had no idea where Kat's kidnapper would approach from. Or if they even would.

"Did you sweep for explosives?" Jack asked in a low voice.

"Of course. There's none."

"You sure?"

"Yes…"

They moved in a circle.

A figure in a business suit appeared at the top of a set of stone steps. He slowly climbed down, a briefcase in hand. Jackson's hand reflexively went for his knife.

"Mr. Murphy, I presume," he said, reaching out to shake Aidan's hand.

"Where's my wife?"

The man ignored his question, turning instead to Jackson. "Oh, good, you're here too."

"Nothing better to do tonight."

"Let's get down to business shall we?"

Jackson smirked. "I'm here. Let the bitch go."

"That's not the deal."

There was a knife in the man's rib cage before he could blink. "It is now. Don't make me ask twice," Jackson hissed in his ear.

"I don't have the authority—"

"Too fucking bad."

"Wait, please…" the man begged.

"Go. I'll call you later. You don't need to be a part of this," Jackson said to Aidan.

"But—"

"You did your part, now go."

Kat's husband heard the edge in his voice and left on foot. There was no need for both of them to be caught. It wouldn't be long before someone called the police. He needed one of them to be free to keep an eye on Lisa.

"Now, I think you had something to tell me?"

The businessman trembled, the knife twisting in between his ribs. "I… I…"

"Is she alive?"

"I don't—"

Jackson slipped the knife in a bit deeper. "Yes?"

"She won't be for long."

**Author's Notes:**

I think this story is jinxed. Seriously. Not long after I wrote about a bank robbery, the bank I worked at was robbed. I write about a near fatal house fire/collapse and then about two weeks ago, two people are killed in a house fire after the roof and upper levels collapse, trapping them in the basement.

It's just downright scary. As long as I keep all my fingers, I think I'll be a happy camper at this rate.

Don't worry—there's no plans for me to stop writing this story so far. I just had to share the odd occurrences (there's never been a fatal house fire in the beach where I live in the over 40-some odd years my dad's been here. Never).

Anyways, we'll know more of what Jack learned in the next chapter, as well as Kat's whereabouts. I will confirm right now that Lisa is alive. Jackson didn't kill her.

As always, thanks so much for the reviews! Please keep them coming! I will respond to all of the ones from the last chapter on Tuesday. I've been ill lately (persistant sinus infection - on third course of antibotics) and busy with work and my original fiction. Updates will be slow this month, though I have the next chapter in editing and the other one in progress. This chapter is unedited, so I apologize for all mistakes/typos. Thanks again! EDITED on Monday, July 5th.


	32. Chapter 31: Too Late To Save You

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Thirty-one**

"_I watched you let yourself die/Now it's too late to save you this time/You bury me alive/And everyone's gotta breathe sometime….Now I hate the nightmare you've become…" ~ __**Bury Me Alive**__ by We Are the Fallen_

Lisa stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. The faint imprint of a hand could be seen on one side of her pale neck. Jackson's handprint.

She had woken up all alone once again. Jackson had decided to either kill her—and failed miserably—or he'd just meant to knock her out. She couldn't decide between the two evils. Either way he was an asshole.

_You better have a damn good reason…_

Actually, she didn't care what his reason was. She was sick of his excuses.

Lisa wet her face with a damp washcloth. If Jackson couldn't trust her enough to tell her the truth, then she would go find Kat on her own. She couldn't blame her friend from holing up somewhere after the events of the past few days. Jackson was back to being a first-class jerk while Aidan was acting like a dumb-struck idiot.

She couldn't take it. Not without losing her newfound sanity.

She unlatched the simple bathroom window. The hinges creaked as she opened it.

The closed toilet seat gave her much-need leverage to pull her upper body through the window frame. With a bit of maneuvering, Lisa slipped her hips and legs through. She fell into the grass on the other side without a hint of grace.

She rubbed her sore leg, cursing Jackson, his mother, his brother, his father—anyone she could think of. It didn't matter that it was juvenile. She was in pain and he wasn't there to defend himself.

_This is your fault. I sincerely hope you end up paralyzed. I should have pushed you off a cliff when I had a chance…_

* * *

With her broken wrist cradled to her chest, Katherine slowly opened the office door. She peered through the crack, trying to remember her training. She had no idea who she could trust in the office. If the wrong person saw her…

She shook her head. _Don't think like that. No negatives. Only positives. You will get out. You will survive. It's what you do best…_

Survive. Retreat. Live to fight "John" another day.

And she would fight him again. On her terms. With her weapons and her strength. Even if she was minus a finger, she would find John again. She would kill him.

* * *

"Where is she?" Jackson hissed, all business once again. It was easy to be his smooth-talking self with a knife in his hand and Lisa safely tucked away.

"Who?"

He stabbed the man again, blood coating his hands. He didn't notice or care. "Katherine Murphy. Where is she?"

"No idea."

Jackson gave the knife another twist. "This is your last chance. Where is she?"

"Dead," the man coughed. "Dead in a ditch off 424. She's dead."

"Wrong answer."

The knife went into the businessman's heart. He gurgled.

Jackson sighed, pulling the knife out. He wiped the blade on the man's suit before fishing in his pockets. He produced a leather wallet—stiff from lack of use—and a Blackberry. He took them both and limped off into the park as sirens echoed in the distance.

* * *

Aidan poured himself a drink in his hotel suite. The whiskey burned his throat as he swallowed the shot glass. He took a breath and poured another shot.

He was on his fifth when his cell phone rang. He downed the shot before flipping his phone open. "Murphy here…"

"424," Jackson rasped on the other end. "He said they dumped her body on 424. I think it's safe to assume she's not there or in Frederick."

"What are you talking about?"

"Davidsonville, Murphy. The road he mentioned where they dumped Katherine's body is in Davidsonville. That's over an hour away. Why use that road? Huh?"

"I don't…"

"She's not in Frederick, Aidan. She's in another county. Whoever took her… he's not keeping her near us."

His hands shook as he reached for the bottle of alcohol. "Where then?"

"Annapolis. Davidsonville would be a good location for a body dump if you were in Annapolis. Drive twenty minutes or so south and bam, instant ditch-dump. It's perfect," Jackson said. "I'll swing by and get you after I get Leese."

"No, you don't have to. I'll do this myself."

"First, you need to stop with the alcohol. You're beyond buzzed, Murphy. Sober up. I'll be by in twenty."

Aidan snapped the phone shut. Screw Jackson. He wasn't nearly numb enough.

* * *

Kat took the stairs two at a time, slowly spiraling down toward the ground. She didn't have her purse, her keys, or her wallet. There was no way she could go back to her sedan or to her hotel room. She couldn't even go back to the bank.

She didn't even have a phone.

But none of that mattered. She had to take things one step at a time. One small step at a time. First, she had to get out of the building alive.

Then she'd worry about getting the hell out of town.

* * *

Lisa limped down the road from the rent-a-roach she'd been hiding in. Jackson could be back any time. She needed to be long gone before then.

She stepped into the convenience. The clerk didn't even look up from his magazine behind his bulletproof shield. She took a deep breath, disappearing down a back aisle. She didn't need anything, per say, not to mention she had no money. What Lisa really needed was a plan.

All of her plans went away when two men in ski masks entered the store with shotguns.

* * *

An alarm sounded, prompting Kat to quicken her pace. Down, down, around, around, she went.

"C'mon, c'mon," she hissed.

She jumped three steps to a landing, wincing as pain shot through her ankles. She shook it off, racing down the next flight of steps. She could hear footsteps from above. John had men on her tail already. Smart fucker.

Her hand closed on a doorknob, setting off a fire alarm, as she jerked a door opened.

Bullets rang out behind her, thwacking against the steel door. Kat slipped through the opening and into the sunlight.

Her heels clicked against the pavement as she broke into a full-fledged run. The men on her tail followed as she wound her way through parked cars. She ducked low as the bullets continued. Apparently she was a security risk.

She didn't slow down as she ran into the street. A few horns honked in annoyance. She just gave them the one-finger salute and kept going. Her legs pounded into the ground, her stride long and smooth. All those long runs were finally beginning to pay off.

Too bad her heels weren't on her side.

One snapped off, tossing Kat off-balance and nearly into the street. Cars whizzed by, her one shoe long gone.

"Pull it together," she hissed to herself, kicking off her other shoe. Rocks and glass ground into her feet as she ran.

She ignored the pain as best she could.

The bullets had stopped, but her pursuers were far from gone. A black SUV mounted the curb in front of her, causing her to back-pedal.

Gunshots trailed her, softened by the addition of silencers. As she ran, car windows shattered.

She shot down an alley. The bullets followed, shooting out a plate glass window before her. She winced as a particularly large piece of glass sliced her left foot.

"Fuck. Fuck!"

Her good hand grabbed a chain link fence. Her toes curled into the holes. It was an awkward climb with only one hand. Kat was almost to the top of the six-foot-tall security fence separating her alley from a back lot when the SUV careened into the alley.

She froze, one leg over the top of the fence.

The first bullet struck her in the lower back, narrowly missing her spine. The impact pushed her over the edge.

Kat didn't get a chance to scream before she tumbled down and down.

* * *

Lisa put her hands up in the air, her heart beating a rapid tattoo in her chest.

One of the gun men snatched her, using her as leverage against the employee at the register. He emptied the cash drawer into the slot, giving it to one of the men. But his cooperation wasn't rewarded—the criminal stuck the barrel into the slot and pulled the trigger.

She shrieked as blood and brain matter splattered across the glass.

"Shut it!" snarled the man holding her. He cuffed her upside the head.

She resisted the urge to cry out as he dragged her to the waiting van. Her captor held a fist-full of her thick curls and carried the shotgun in his other hand. She knew that unlike Jackson, these men wouldn't hesitate to shoot her dead. They'd proved that once.

Lisa tumbled into the dingy van. The men climbed in behind her. One of them tightened plastic cuffs on her wrists while the other slapped a piece of tape over her mouth.

Shock began to set in for her. _This can't be happening. This is a really bad dream…_

* * *

A black SUV with tinted windows rolled up alongside a ditch. A door opened.

A man dressed in head-to-toe black pulled a body out of the trunk. He tossed the slight female down the incline. The body rolled.

The men hadn't bothered to conceal the woman's remains. She landed face down in a puddle, her limbs at odd angles. Her hair spread out over her face. She only wore a bra and a pair of panties. Shock value was how their boss put it.

A mixture of bullet wounds and cuts covered her skin.

The man slammed the trunk shut and climbed back into the SUV.

The vehicle drove off, leaving the body to rot in the elements. Their job was done.

**Author's Notes:**

Two chapters almost in a row! Yay! Lisa and Kat just attract trouble, don't they? Anyways, chapter 32 is in the works. I'm shooting to wrap the story up in 40 chapters or so total (maybe 45). We'll see how that works out. Expect the next chapter toward the end of the month. Here's a hint for next chapter's song – 'Closer' by Burn Season. I already did a short JxL video to it (link on my profile). Enjoy!

**Reviews for Chap 30:**

Lisa Reisert – Thanks so much! :)

Lily – I really like Kat too, which is why she will probably survive, even if she's injured. Thanks for reviewing! :)

Harlequin – Thanks for doing one review! Any review makes my day! I hope you did well on your finals—my little sister likes to read fanfic on her iTouch late at night. She's usually up way past me – like 2 or 3am. Sorry you had to wait so long for an update. I will make sure Jackson and Lisa take their time. There's more romance to come—I swear! Thanks for reviewing! :)

Angelica – Thank you so much! Really! :)


	33. Chapter 32: You Can't Live Without Me

****

Newfound Clarity

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye!_ The characters of Kat and Aidan are mine.

**Chapter Thirty-two**

"_You say I'm scaring you now but I'm tired/From watching you sleep/I'd erase what you say/Scramble words in the way/But you can't take away/Turn away/Run away/Fuck with me/Don't say that it's over/I'd kill to be closer…I will wait/And I'll take/Anything with your name/Don't say that it's over/You can't live without me…" ~ __**Closer**__ by Burn Season_

Jackson pushed his car past the speed limit with ease. He wasn't holding out hope for finding Katherine alive. If he could keep Lisa alive, he would consider it a victory. Kat was long gone. She had been the victim of a plot to get to him. He wouldn't—no, couldn't—let that happen to Lisa.

He whipped his car into a parking spot in front of the low-rent motel he'd chosen as a temporary hideout. He didn't bother to lock the doors as he limped toward the room.

He didn't bother fishing out the room key—one swift kick brought down the cheap plywood door. He stepped through the wreckage without a second glance. He had one priority.

This was a job for him. He would do whatever it took to keep Lisa Reisert alive.

* * *

She found herself facing a man in a very expensive suit. _What's with hired killers and business clothes? Is there some dress code that I don't know about?_

"Ah, Miss Reisert. What a pleasure it is to finally meet you," the man said with a smile, as if this was a normal social visit.

As if she weren't cuffed to a chair with a piece of duct tape securing her mouth.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Security precaution. According to the file, you are a rather resourceful woman. I could really use someone like you on my team."

Her glare answered the job offer—there was no way Lisa Reisert would ever work for someone who killed innocent people. It didn't matter what they offered—she wasn't about to compromise her principles and morals for a job.

He chuckled. "That's the same answer that your friend, Katherine Murphy, gave when I offered her a job."

_You took Kat… you bastard!_

"Oh, didn't you know? Katherine's dead. She tried to run."

_Oh God…_

"Don't worry, I know you won't run. There's no reason for you to run. I just need you to help me snare a mutual enemy. You remember Jackson Rippner, don't you?"

* * *

Of course, keeping Lisa alive would be easier if he could find her.

The room was empty. There weren't any signs of struggle or a break-in. Odds were that Lisa left on her own two feet. She couldn't have gone far.

He traced her egress from the bathroom window—she was extremely athletic, he'd give her that much credit—to just outside the motel. Jackson stared at her tracks in the dirt, trying to determine a direction.

That's when he heard gunshots in the distance.

"Leese!"

* * *

"Don't be coy," Kat's killer taunted. "You'd remember that creepy fucker. Bright baby blue eyes and brown hair… average height and a killer smile. The most charming sleezeball you'll ever have the pleasure of sitting beside on a plane flight."

Lisa tried to stay calm and breathe. _This can't be happening. This is a nightmare…_

"That's right—I hired him."

She closed her eyes, trying not to cry. Jackson's mysterious boss not only ordered the massacre of an entire family, he also murdered her best friend.

And he was going to kill her too once he got what he wanted. Once he got Jackson.

* * *

A van shot away from the convenience store, nearly clipping Jackson. He ignored the van.

Blood and brains coated the interior of the store. He counted bodies, glad that the only dead person was the clerk behind a glass wall. Lisa wasn't lying on the floor. She wasn't there.

Instead of feeling relieved, Jackson felt a gnawing pit inside his stomach. Lisa was in trouble.

_Damnit, Leese. Why couldn't you just stay put for once?_

* * *

"Don't worry, you won't suffer. It'll be quick, when I kill you," the man, Jackson's boss, purred. "But first, let's see if we can find Rippner."

He ripped the tape off her mouth, tearing skin and a few unfortunate wisps of hair from her scalp. She yelped.

"Settle down, Miss Reisert." He held up a phone. "What's the number?"

"What number?"

"Rippner's. What's his phone number?"

"I don't know…" she whispered. "Honestly…"

"That's not good enough."

* * *

"Change of plans," Jackson said, behind the wheel of his car again. He pressed the gas pedal against the floor. "Lisa's missing."

At the other end, Murphy was practically asleep. "Wha…?"

"Put down the alcohol. They've taken Lisa. I think I know what they want."

"What's that?"

"Me. And I'm going to turn myself in. I just need your help."

"Why?"

Jackson snorted. "I need someone to keep Lisa out of trouble."

* * *

Lisa couldn't help but scream when the man broke her wrist.

Pain shot up her arm, her wrist throbbing in time with her heartbeat. Instead of loosening her lips, like her captor hoped, the fresh pain only firmed her resolve. She hadn't let Jackson beat her when he held several lives in the palm of his hand. She wasn't going to break for this stranger.

If he killed her, she would die fighting to protect her friends.

_Since when is Jack a friend?_

* * *

When he got his drunken companion in the car, Jackson took off again.

"So what are we doing?"

"I'm going in alone. You're going to make sure they follow through and let Lisa go. Then I want you to run. I don't care where. If I make it out, I will find you," Jackson said calmly. Too calm for a man facing his own execution.

"And Kat?"

"If they have Lisa, it means Kat's dead."

"I'm not going to abandon my wife based on your intuition," Aidan argued, slurring his words.

He sighed. "It's not just my gut, Murphy. I know these people. I was one of them. They got to Kat first. When she couldn't help them, they moved on. They killed your wife. Now, unless we hurry, they're going to kill Lisa."

"This is all your fault."

"I know. That's why we have to save Lisa. I created this mess. She's got nothing to do with this."

"And neither did Katy!"

Jackson wrenched the car over to a shoulder. Cars honked as they blew past, annoyed. He didn't notice as he turned to face his friend.

"I'm sorry about her. Really. She was special. But right now I need you to think about what Katherine would want. She would want you to get a grip on yourself and save her best friend."

Aidan slowly met his eyes. "Just because you're right doesn't mean I'm happy about it."

"I didn't expect you to be happy."

"Good. Because I'm not."

He rolled his blue eyes. Aidan Murphy was not a happy drunk, unlike his wife. Katherine giggled when she drank. She got looser and more lighthearted with each drink.

The silence in the car was pierced by the ringing of a cell phone.

* * *

"Let's see if Rippner gets this message," her captor said, holding out a cell phone. "Smile for the camera, Miss Reisert."

* * *

Jackson pulled the phone from Aidan's shaking hands. He flipped open the screen. The phone wasn't Murphy's regular phone. He was still carrying around the phone from the box—the one included with Kat's finger.

'1 new txt/pic message' the screen read.

He clicked 'OK' to view the message. On the phone's small screen, a picture appeared. He took a deep breath to calm himself.

It was Lisa, splattered with blood. She was tied to a chair, her eyes wet. His boss had hurt her. He could tell by her posture and, when he enlarged the photograph, her limp right wrist. Broken. Her wrist was broken.

He moved on, trying to keep his composure. Emotion-based decisions were dangerous. He could easily get her killed if he rushed in.

_That's what you want, isn't it? You want me to be a little lap dog who runs to his master's voice. You want me to kill her._

Jackson focused his blue eyes on the text below the photo. 'Trade? Rippner for the girl. 4 hrs to live. Call 2 arrange meet.'

"What's goin' on?" Aidan asked.

"We've got less than four hours to save Lisa. He's not going to let her go. He never was."

"How do you know?"

"I just do."

* * *

"He's not going to come," Lisa whispered.

"Oh, he will. I knew from the start that you meant something to him. I used to see him sitting there, staring at your photograph. And during surveillance? He really only needed two weeks to know your patterns. Instead, he did eight weeks of that."

She closed her eyes, reminded of Jackson on the plane. As he'd calmly described her habits—from her favorite drink to her late night cravings. She hated this side of him.

_But this is part of him. He's a killer. He worked for this man…_

"He doesn't care about me. It's all an act."

His boss snorted. "You don't believe that. If you did, you would've given me the phone number."

"I don't know it. He doesn't tell me everything."

"It's a shame that I'll have to kill you. You would have made an excellent manager…"

He cupped her chin, smirking at her, their faces mere inches apart.

Lisa gathered up her strength. _What would Kat do?_

The answer hit her. She spat in her captor's face.

* * *

Jackson sharpened his knife in the front seat.

"What are you planning to do?" Aidan asked, his voice steadying as time passed.

"I'm going to kill him. Fuck the trade. I know where he is."

"Who is he? This… guy…"

He looked over at his friend. "He's the only who pulled the trigger on Charles Keefe. He hired me to follow Lisa. To make sure that Keefe died."

"And Lisa stopped you."

He slipped the knife back in its sheath.

"That's right. She also saved our lives."

"Your boss wanted to kill you?"

"I was quitting the business. The guy who hired me had a lot to lose. He probably wanted to make sure no one ever asked questions."

"Who is he? I mean, what's he do?"

Jackson sighed. "His current title is Deputy Director of Homeland Security."

"But I thought that was—"

"Charles Keefe. He ordered his death in order to take his job. He wanted him to go out with a big bang in order to gain public support for a few new measures."

"Like what?" Aidan asked, frowning.

"I wasn't privy to the specifics, Murphy. All I know is that it involved a deal with the National Security Agency."

"Are you thinking… large-scale surveillance?"

"What else could it be? He would know everyone's dirty little secrets. Imagine if every word you spoke into a phone or typed on a computer was recorded? Or if all the intersections and public places had cameras? You could forget about privacy."

"But that's illegal."

"That was before a major official was assassinated," Jackson said softly. "The public wants justice. Congress will sign just about anything right now."

"This is insane."

"I never said Hamilton was sane."

**Author's Notes:**

This was a tricky chapter, logistically and insofar as finding time to write it. The good news is that JulNoWriMo is over and I have about two weeks left before I move. I've really hoping to have this story done before my latest move. I will be traveling a bit before the final move-in day (I'll be in by August 22nd) and hopefully I'll have my laptop back by then.

Until then, please, please keep the reviews coming! Kat's fate will be dealt with in the next chapter, I swear!

Lily- Kat's one tough cookie. And Lisa does love to push Jack's buttons. Thanks!


	34. Chapter 33: Just A Little Late

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Thirty-three**

"_Where were you, when everything was falling apart?/All my days were spend by the telephone that never rang/And all I needed was a call that never came…Lost and insecure/You found me/You found me/Lying on the floor/Surrounded/Surrounded/Why'd you have to wait?/Where were you?/Where were you?/Just a little late/You found me/You found me/But in the end everyone ends up alone/Losing her, the only one who's ever known/Who I am, who I'm not and who I want to be/No way to know how long she will be next to me…" ~ __**You Found Me**__ by the Fray_

"So everything—this entire mess—was all about power?" Aidan asked, stunned.

Jackson nodded. "As far as I can tell, I'm the only person left alive who knows the truth. If Hamilton thinks I told Lisa, the he will kill her."

"What do we do?"

"We're going to take down Hamilton."

"How?"

Jackson held up his sharpened knife. "I'm going to gut him with this."

Aidan nodded in approval. "And security?"

"They'll let me though. I still have a pass."

"And what about Kat?"

Jackson sighed. "They said 424, but she won't be there. My guess is Truman Parkway out by the county fairgrounds. The road isn't used much in the off-season. You can take the car."

"What about you?" he frowned. "Don't you need back-up?"

"Not this time." Jackson put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Go find your wife. She shouldn't die for nothing. In case I die, you need to tell the public the truth."

Aidan nodded, suddenly sober. "Just try not to die…"

"Tell Leese… forget it."

He stepped out of the car, leaving Aidan alone. It was time for one last job—one final kill. Then he was finding the nearest quiet place and setting up a new home. And, if luck was on his side, Lisa would go with him.

* * *

Crack!

Lisa's head snapped back from the force of the backhand.

"They warned me about you," her captor muttered, using a handkerchief to wipe her spit off his face. "A little spitfire masquerading as a timid mouse…"

She tasted copper in her mouth. Blood.

"Now I see why Rippner was infatuated with you… why he turned his back on everything. You must be one really amazing lay—"

Lisa lashed out with her feet, nailing him in the shin with her right leg. He stumbled backward to rest against his desk, taken off-guard by her sudden show of aggression. She wanted to smile, but her jaw ached from his smack.

"I am going to enjoy killing you in front of your lover…"

* * *

Aidan drove slowly, his dark eyes darting from one side of the road to the other. The grass was close to a foot high on the left side, making it almost impossible to spot her or any signs of anyone. He had to trust Jackson's instincts, even if it meant looking for a body.

_Please be alive…_

After the events of the past few months, he wanted nothing more than to find her alive.

He knew the odds were against him. The rational side of Aidan's brain insisted Kat was dead. His heart refused to give up hope.

A flash of pale flesh caught his eye. He slammed both feet on the brake, staring out the passenger-side window.

"Kat? Katy?"

Aidan stumbled out of the car and into the grass. He closed in on the limb, recognizing it as a leg, probably female given the size and shape. He knelt down, seeing the blood coated the skin.

The girl had been dumped there, stripped down to her underwear. Her limbs were askew—possibly broken. Her hair was streaked with blood and covered her face.

He turned the slender body over, examining the face.

_Please don't be Kat. Don't be Kat…_

The eyes were closed, but he knew that face. He'd woken up to see her for the past few years.

"Kat… oh Katy, baby…"

Aidan picked up her body, rocking it in his arms. She looked tiny and broken, her skin sliced and torn. She was dead and destroyed. All because of her choice of friends had powerful enemies. All because he pushed her aside and walked away. He let them get to his wife.

"Oh, God, Katy… I'm so sorry… so very sorry…"

* * *

Jackson composed himself; straightening his clothes, tucking in his shirt, and slicking his hair back. He waltzed into the lobby like he owned the building, his face a blank mask. He pushed aside thoughts of Lisa and focused on the job.

He presented his security pass to the guard on duty who waved him through without stopping to run a metal detecting wand over his body. Jackson clipped the pass to his jacket and strode for the first bank of elevators.

Hamilton's office was located on the tenth floor. Jackson didn't anticipate any problems getting to the office or even inside. The problem would be getting Hamilton alone and finding Lisa.

Because why would he have a hostage brought to his office?

_That was his chair she sat in. You know that. You've sat in it before._

The elevator doors dinged open on the tenth floor. Jackson stepped off, his shoes quiet on the slick marble flooring.

He turned right, stepping onto the carpeted hallway that led to Hamilton's office. He counted off the doors, pausing only at 1021. He didn't bother to knock before opening the door and walking in.

Hamilton's secretary had been replaced with a group of burly thugs.

Jackson struck the closest man with an uppercut before he could draw his gun. He spun, roundhouse kicking a gun out of the second man's hand. A bone snapped as his foot connected with the man's gun hand.

He didn't linger, smoothly drawing his knife from the sheath to face the next man.

Jackson beckoned his attacker with his left hand. They collided, Jackson taking a punch to the gut as he drew his knife across the man's chest. He drew blood, gritting his teeth against the pain, to finish the job.

With a flick of his wrist, he opened the man's jugular.

* * *

As he sat there, holding onto Kat's body, Aidan noticed a peculiar thing. She was still bleeding—her body and blood still warm.

_That's not possible…_

He checked her pulse. He couldn't feel one underneath all the slippery blood.

Aidan pressed his ear to her chest, listening for breath. It came in a slow wheeze.

His wife was still alive.

* * *

A gun went off, catching Jackson in the side. He grunted, his left hand touching the round hole.

He dropped below the desk, narrowly avoiding the next shot. Jackson crawled across the carpeting to a discarded gun. He tucked it into his waistband.

He waited for one of the two men left to move. He lashed out at the closest guard, slashing his calf and severing a tendon or two. The man crumpled to the ground.

Jackson slipped underneath the desk, straddling the fallen guard. He slit the man's throat, not even caring that his blood splashed across his face. He didn't feel the warm liquid, the pain in his side, or the ache in his stomach. He didn't feel a thing.

The last man standing was speaking into a portable radio when Jackson came up behind him with a tie. He slipped the silk across his throat, turning it into a garrote. He struggled and choked before collapsing.

Jackson smiled at the dead bodies before stepping into Hamilton's office.

* * *

A gurney flew down a hallway, Katherine's mutilated body covered with a white sheet. There was a tube in her throat forcing air into her lungs and an IV bag running into one pale arm as a blood transfusion ran into the other.

Aidan jogged alongside, using his paramedic credentials to follow his wife into the operating room.

He didn't scrub in and help. He stood by and watched, reporting her condition and the injuries he noticed in order to help the surgeons. He rattled off her medical history and answered the technician's questions.

Tick was ticking away. Kat was slipping away.

_Hang in there, Katy girl. Hang on…_

* * *

"Why does everyone think we're sleeping together?" Lisa demanded. "I can't stand the bastard!"

"Really? Then why is he here?"

"What?"

He turned the monitor toward her, pointing at a surveillance camera. It showed Jackson striding through the lobby.

"You might hate him, Miss Reisert, but he obviously doesn't feel the same way."

* * *

"Run, Jack! It's a trap!" a female voice shouted the moment he cracked the door.

_Leese…_

He kicked the door open wide, revealing the flustered brunette tied to a chair. Hamilton stood behind her, a knife blade digging into her chest. He could see the blood blossoming through her torn shirt.

"Too late for that, Leese," he muttered, his own knife in hand.

"It's nice of you to finally join us, Rippner. I must say, you have interesting taste in friends. An heiress who doesn't even cry and a pretty little manager?"

"Put the knife down, Hamilton."

"No, no." He dug the blade deeper, making Lisa gasp. "I want you to watch what I'm going to do to your lover—or is it your friend? She claims to hate you, but I'm not buying it…"

"Put it down."

"You first," Lisa's captor insisted, using her as a shield. He could read the terror in her green eyes.

Jackson narrowed his eyes before slapping the bloody knife down in the center of Hamilton's desk, the only obstacle between him and Lisa.

"I'm here. That's what you wanted. Now let Lisa go. She's served her purpose. She'd got nothing to do with this," he growled.

"That's where you're wrong, my boy. Miss Reisert has _everything_ to do with this…"

**Author's Notes:**

We're getting closer to the end! I would have had this chapter up a few days ago, except I was out of town. Big thanks to my beta, **cypris88**! Please keep the reviews coming!

Empirex - Thanks! :)

Eilish – I believe the default time/date on is American based, not European. I'm not too sure if one or both of them is going to live yet, but my goal is wrap this story up by the end of the month. And we definitely will see more of Jackson's violent side as we get closer to the end. Thanks! :)


	35. Chapter 34: Says I'm A Bad Man

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_. If I did, there would already be a sequel.

**Chapter Thirty-four**

"_Says I'm a bad man/She's locking me out/It's cause of these things/It's cause of these things/Let's make a fast plan/Watch it burn to the ground/I try to whisper so no one figures it out/I'm not a bad man/I'm just overwhelmed/It's cause of these things…" ~ __**These Things**__ by She Wants Revenge_

Hamilton couldn't believe his luck. Rippner came to him like a well-trained dog and even gave up his knife without a fight.

All of it was thanks to the petite woman wriggling in his arms. She had been Rippner's accomplice instead of his victim. However, he would fix that. Once he had a little fun with his misbehaving employee and lover first.

"Sit, Rippner," he ordered, continuing to slice the girl's skin. She trembled in his hold.

Blue eyes filled with hate stared at him. He just smiled as the man slowly took a seat. Lisa Reisert worked like a charm when it came to subduing the dangerous manager.

"That's much better, Rippner. Now, I'm going to toss you a set of cuffs. You'll put them on or I'll put this knife through her side."

Hamilton shifted his knife, keeping his eyes on the silent man, as he wrapped on arm around the girl's stomach. The blade dug into her right side, just below her rib cage. He used his right hand to throw a pair of stainless-steel handcuffs to Rippner from his pants pocket.

Rippner caught them easily. He stared down at the cuffs in his hand and then up at Lisa.

"Run…" she whimpered. "Run, damnit…"

"No, I promised not to leave you," the manager said softly.

The cuffs clinked as he put them on.

Hamilton smiled. He never expected to see Rippner so subdued and docile. Not to mention it was all because of a woman!

"Now, let's get down to business, shall we?" Hamilton suggested, forcing Lisa to sit on top of his desk. He kept the woman between him and Rippner. Even handcuffed, he didn't trust the other man.

"You have to let her go first," Rippner insisted. "Then we can talk."

"That's not going to happen and you know it. Miss Reisert here is my leverage. Plus, she's working for you. You both decided to fuck with my plans. I don't like it when people fuck with my plans… do I, Lisa?"

He jerked her head back with his right hand twisted in her hair. Her pale throat was exposed to his knife.

She struggled, trying to fight him off, until the knife nicked her skin.

"She has nothing to do with this, Hamilton. She's just a bystander."

"Really? Then why is she still alive?"

He smirked at the little gasp she let out. "Oh, he didn't tell you? All this time you've been fucking him and he didn't tell you? Shame on you, Rippner…"

"We're not together!" Lisa cried.

"Cute, very cute. Are you going to tell her or should I?"

Rippner shifted in his chair. "Leese, don't listen to him. I didn't know when I took the job. I swear I didn't…"

"Didn't know what?" she asked, her voice uneven. Fear. He could almost taste it.

"That part of his job was to kill you," Hamilton whispered into her ear, nuzzling her neck. "He was supposed to kill you after the flight."

"No…"

* * *

He wasn't sure what hurt more—the betrayal in her green eyes or the fact that Hamilton kept touching her.

"Don't listen to him. I'm not that person. I'm not a killer, Leese…"

Hamilton laughed, drawing Lisa tighter to him. "Really? Did you tell her about all the other jobs? Like the ones in Africa? Or how about that senator out west? Plus those corporate espionage gigs you used to do… I'm sure she'd love to hear about that."

Jackson watched her take in this new information. He watched as she slowed her struggles. _Don't listen to him, Leese. Look at me. Listen to me. Trust me, goddamnit…_

"That was a long time ago. I'm not the same person anymore. I don't kill for money. I only kill to protect those I care about," he swore, staring directly at her face. Her gorgeous, tear-streaked face. "I just want to protect you."

"He is a killer, Miss Reisert. I hired him to kill you and the Keefe family. He accepted it. He made a good bundle of money… even if he didn't finish the job and collect the rest of the funds," Hamilton said. He relaxed his hold on Lisa a bit, slowly moving the knife further away from her throat.

"It wasn't like that. Stop twisting what happened!"

"I don't care anymore, Jack. I don't. There's nothing left for me anymore. Everyone's gone," she said, her eyes missing their usual spark.

"No, that's not true. You've still got me."

"As touching as this is, we still have business to finish. Since Charles Keefe is dead, I don't need that taken care of. What I do need is for one of you to die."

_

* * *

_

Me. You need me to die, don't you?

Seeing Jackson, no longer intimidating or powerful, sitting still in a chair with his wrists shackled stung. He was only in his room because he chased after her. All because of some stupid promise to protect her.

"Kill me," Lisa said, her voice only trembling a bit. "Kill me or I'll tell everyone in the world what you did."

Hamilton laughed, his breath tickling her neck. She shivered.

"Now, now, Miss Reisert, you'll get your turn. First, I'm going to make Rippner wish he could die—or that he killed you himself."

"What?"

Her world tilted as her captor slammed her face down on top of the desk. Lisa struggled to right herself, only to feel weight pushing her down. She screamed into the wood, unable to see anything through her hair.

The knife sliced through her shirt, exposing her back. She felt the air-conditioning vent blow on the bare skin.

"Don't touch her!" Jack growled far away.

Lisa took a deep breath just before the blade cut into her skin. She held in the scream that threatened to spill over her lips.

But that did nothing to dim the pain.

* * *

Jackson felt the rage boiling over inside himself. Seeing Lisa lying there, helpless, tore at his heart. There was no doubt in his mind that Hamilton was just getting started with her. He had known Hamilton was dangerous when he accepted the job—but he hadn't known how dangerously unhinged the man was.

Now he did.

Blood spilled out of the cuts on Lisa's back. He stood up, slowly stepping toward the desk.

Hamilton didn't see him as he dug the knife into her back again.

Jackson jumped onto the desk, throwing his handcuffed wrists over Hamilton's head. He pulled the cuffs against the other man's throat, dragging him away from Lisa.

The two men hit the floor, Hamilton slashing at him with the knife.

He tightened his grip around the man's throat, using his body to hold him still. If he could just get Hamilton to pass out for a minute or two, he would be free of the cuffs and able to kill his employer.

"I told you not to touch her," Jackson hissed as Hamilton's jerky movements slowed.

He was panting hard when the older man finally passed out. Jackson wiped the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve, sighing.

Across the office, Lisa sat up on the desk, clutching her torn shirt. "Jack?"

"It's okay, Leese. I won't let him hurt you anymore."

He slipped his hands into Hamilton's pockets, searching for the handcuff key, which he found on the inside pocket of his jacket. Jackson unlocked the cuffs with ease before slapping them onto Hamilton's wrists, securing his hands behind his back.

Satisfied that Hamilton was secure for the moment, he turned his attention to Lisa.

Jackson took his jacket off. "Here, put this on…"

She shook as he helped her slide into the jacket. The coat hung loosely on her frame, but covered her exposed back. She clutched it closed with her good hand.

"Are you going to kill him?" she asked.

He looked her in the eye. "Yes."

"Good. He… he deserves it."

He touched her cheek gently. "Don't worry. He won't get off easily. Not after what he's done…"

Lisa nodded, shifting a bit closer to him. He slipped an arm around her shoulders. "He killed Kat."

"I know. I know. But I'm going to fix this. He's never going to hurt anyone else again. I swear."

"I trust you, Jack."

He smiled at her. "Good."

Jackson lifted her down from the desk. She leaned against him, her smaller body curling up against his once again.

"I want to stay."

"Are you sure?"

"I don't want to be alone."

With a grim look, he helped her over to a chair. "Close your eyes, Lisa. I don't want you to see this."

**Author's Notes:**

Okay, we're almost to the big showdown against Hamilton! One more chapter and the worst of the danger will be dealt with. We'll check in on Kat and Aidan in chapter 36 along with whoever survives what's coming.

Yes, there will be a few more chapters after this before the story ends. I'm thinking 40 chapters total plus an epilogue.

Thanks for the reviews! And big thanks to my beta, **cypris88**!


	36. Chapter 35: Until the Very End

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_!

**Chapter Thirty-five**

"_This staying alive can kill you/It's taken years off of my life…If I plead insanity/Can I still crash at your place?...Not tryin' to kill you: It's just proof of life/Not tryin' to kill you: One day at a time…I'm sure she'll be with me until the very end/There are only so many ambulances/The less you ask, the more you see/There are only so many accidents…" ~ __**Ambulances**__ by Institute_

For once in her life, she listened to him.

She knew about his dark side. She knew part of him was an accomplished killer. Since she'd been stuck with him, Jackson only killed to defend other people, such as herself, and innocent civilians. As much as she wanted to hate him, she kept remembering his heroic charge into the bank, saving three lives. She remembered him getting her out of the Murphys' smoldering home. She couldn't forget waking up beside him, her neck bandaged after her throat was cut.

And now, here he was, once again saving her. He could have run and left her to fend off Hamilton. Instead, he risked his life to not only get in the building but to save her.

Lisa couldn't find it in herself to hate him at this moment.

Even if he was systematically murdering another man in front of her.

* * *

Hamilton slipped his right wrist free. In his rush, Rippner hadn't quite secured the cuffs around his wrists. His right hand curled together, making it impossible to properly fit the handcuffs. All he had to do was uncurl his fingers and voila! He had a free hand.

Not that he wanted to play his hand yet. He resisted the urge to smile at his own pun.

Once Rippner let his guard down, Hamilton would subdue him. This time, he would ensure that Rippner couldn't fight back. Then he would force his wayward employee to watch his lover die. He couldn't wait to slowly squeeze the life out of her.

With her out of the way, he could focus on Rippner. Perhaps, he could even pin her death on Rippner. A lover's quarrel. A murder-suicide.

Hamilton liked all of those plans. He would enjoy finishing off Lisa Reisert and through her, crush Rippner and kill him. Perhaps he should put Rippner's knife into his heart…

He smiled on the inside, knowing that soon they would both be dead and he would still be the Deputy Director. No one—especially not former killer and a hotel manager—would take that away from him. He stood to make several million a quarter in kick-backs alone from his new programs.

_God bless the paranoia of the American people…_

* * *

Jackson reclaimed his knife as he surveyed the unconscious man at his feet.

Hamilton deserved to suffer for his schemes and all the innocent people who were caught up in them. Lisa, Katherine, the Keefes and their entourage were all pawns in a high-stakes political game.

It was up to him to stop Hamilton's plans. He had the power of life and death right now.

The justice system wouldn't punish John Hamilton appropriately. Even if James Robertson got all of his employees to help protest—even combined with all the public support over Katherine's murder and Keefe's assassination—Hamilton would probably only get a slap on the wrist. He would walk away clean.

Politicians always did.

Right then and there, with Lisa huddled in a corner wearing his coat, Jackson made his decision.

He plunged the knife into Hamilton's left leg, narrowly missing a major artery.

* * *

Lisa still had her eyes shut tight when she heard Jackson curse.

She peeked, keeping one eye closed.

Her savior lay on the ground, straddled by a formerly unconscious man. Hamilton had his hands around Jackson's throat.

His thumb dug into Jackson's weak spot—a healed scar over his throat. The round hole had been caused by her. She was the one who caused all of his weakness. Physically and emotionally.

"Get off him!" she cried, launching herself on the politician. He swatted at her, handcuffs dangling from one wrist.

Jackson made a strangled sound, thrashing under the combined weight of Hamilton and Lisa. The hands continued to tighten around his neck.

Lisa knew she didn't have the upper body strength—or any strength really—to take on a man of Hamilton's weight. He was well-muscled and broad shouldered. Knowing her luck, he was an ex-football player.

_Time to break out the big guns…_

Lisa opened her mouth and bit down, hard, on Hamilton's arm. The man yowled, using his other hand to smack at her.

Crack!

His hand collided with her cheekbone, dislocating her jaw.

She stumbled back, her eyes searching for a weapon.

Jackson used the sudden shift in weight to turn the tables, flipping Hamilton off him. He panted and coughed, his voice rough from his near strangling.

"Leese?"

"I'm fine!" she muttered, her jaw throbbing. She heard another crack as she realigned the bone.

He didn't disagree. Of course, that could have been because Hamilton had punched him in the ribs.

* * *

He inhaled, feeling a few ribs protest. Bruised, possibly broken. Nothing he could do about that now.

Jackson slammed his skull against his former boss's head. He ignored the blood trickling down from his hairline and the sudden pain. It was like hitting a brick wall.

Beside him, Hamilton laughed. "You're pathetic, Rippner. Even the girl fights better than you."

He could feel Lisa's eyes on him. She was waiting for a signal from him. A signal he wasn't about to give. He would fix this mess on his own. Even if it killed him.

His hand found the knife again. He flipped the blade through the air, giving Hamilton a quick warning. The man didn't heed it. Not that it mattered—Jackson was going to kill him no matter what. He had to do it.

To protect Lisa. To protect himself.

Jackson buried the knife hilt deep in his side. The older man groaned, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt.

Hamilton ripped the knife free.

Blood darkened his shirt and the carpeting. It didn't faze the politician.

Before Jackson could move or reach for a weapon, Hamilton slashed his right arm. The ex-manager clutched the limb, watching the blood drip.

He stepped away from Hamilton. But that didn't stop the older man.

He lunged at Jackson, who ducked. He dropped to the floor, rolling away from the injured man. His right hand touched his belt, reaching to draw a knife that wasn't there.

Hamilton slashed at him again.

Jackson rolled onto his back, feeling cold steel digging into his lower back. The gun.

He kicked at Hamilton's arm, slowing him for a moment. He rolled onto his side and pulled the gun.

Hot pain in his back. Jackson dropped the gun, looking over at Hamilton. The man was unarmed now, which meant the knife… the knife was in his back.

* * *

Lisa didn't bother to hold in her scream. She screamed in fury, fear, and shock.

She went to Jackson's side, touching the knife. Common sense said to leave it in place. As she touched his lower back, she felt the blood pouring out. Her eyes caught a glimpse of metal on the floor beside him.

_A gun?_

Her hand closed on it. They didn't need to talk—she knew what she had to do. In order for them to survive, Hamilton had to die.

She whipped the pistol out.

Hamilton smiled at her; a predatory look in his eyes. She knew that look well—she first saw it on the face of her rapist. Then, later, she saw it on Jackson's. She was used to that look. It didn't scare her or intimidate her.

She flicked the safety off.

Hamilton reached for another knife, his own blade, across the blood-soaked carpeting. The blade had fallen underneath a chair. Jackson's heavy, uneven breathing rang in her ears.

Lisa barely flinched as she pulled the trigger.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

He grabbed his stomach, curling inward.

Bang!

An arm dangled uselessly at his side.

Bang! Bang!

Two round holes appeared in his chest.

Bang!

One penetrated his knee.

Bang! Bang!

Bone shattered as the bullets tore through his rib cage and spine.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Two more shots hit his legs. One hit the groin.

Bang! Bang!

One shoulder, then the other.

Click! Click! Click.

The gun was empty.

Lisa turned to Jackson, her heart racing. She turned her back on Hamilton, not needing to hear his final gasps for air. She'd done enough. It wouldn't be long before he bled out. Surely it was a kinder death than he deserved.

"Jack…"

She helped him stand up. He leaned on her, reminding her of the time she found him lying on her doorstep.

"I'm still here…" he moaned.

"You'd better be. I'm not finished with you yet."

"Me neither, Leese. Me neither…"

Sirens went off, much like a fire alarm. A loudspeaker kicked in, shouting, "Security lockdown initiating. Please stay put. This is not a drill."

"They're coming for us, aren't they?" Lisa asked.

He groaned as they stumbled toward the office door. "Yeah, it sure sounds like it."

"What are we going to do?"

"You're going to run. I'll handle this."

"No way. I'm not leaving you here to die, Jack."

She dragged him along, heading for the elevator bank. He dug his heels in. "No," he insisted, his voice rough. "Stairs. They'll have shut down the elevators."

"But you can't—"

"Don't worry about me."

They changed course, Jackson leading a bit. Lisa spotted the stairwell door just as footsteps surrounded them.

"Freeze! Put your hands up!" a man bellowed, a gun aimed at him. Behind him stood another three men all dressed in security guard uniforms.

She looked to the other side, seeing another four men flanking them. A quick glance behind her told her that they were boxed in. Trapped like rats in a maze.

"It's okay," Jackson whispered, loosening his grip on her. "Do it…"

Lisa bit her lip, letting go of him. She raised her arms slowly, watching Jackson sink to his knees. He was too weak to stand.

One of the men approached her, roughly jerking her hands behind her back. Cuffs clicked as he secured her wrists. She cried out when he touched her broken wrist. He didn't seem to notice or care.

"Please, we didn't do anything," she said.

"Shut up."

The guard pushed her toward a group of waiting men, all with their guns aimed at her. Lisa walked slowly, feeling a bit like a prisoner being led to their own execution. But what else could she do? She was unarmed and injured.

She didn't get too far before she heard gunshots.

**Author's Notes:**

I decided to let Lisa be the strong one this time around. I was going to let Jackson kill him and then I remembered that Jack's still rather weak. He was in a wheelchair not too long ago after all. He's not in the best shape of his life. So Lisa saves the day.

We'll see if Jack pulls through and what's up with Kat's condition in the next chapter. Here's a hint for the next chapter's songs—right now it's between 'Comatose' and 'Kill Me Heal Me' both by Skillet. Actually, it's a safe bet that next chapter will feature a Skillet song.

Thanks so much for all the reviews!

Eilish - I always try to respond to all my reviews. I have some of the best readers around and I really appreciate each and every review I get. Sometimes it takes me a while to respond (I just finished dealing with some reviews from 2007 earlier this week) but I always intend to respond. You're right about Hamilton not going down easy-but he's not coming back to life. Not this time. Thanks so much! :)

Lily - Thanks so much! Lisa really does trust him now. It's been a rocky road. :)


	37. Chapter 36: Nothing Left to Fight

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_.

**Chapter Thirty-six**

"_Don't you know the cost/Of your betrayal/You're the one that's lost/You're gonna fail/It feels like/It feels like you're gasping with all your might/You can't take away my strength/Fix these broken things/There's nothing left to fight/Live free or let me die/You can't take away my pride/I won't be denied/There's nothing left to fight/Live free or let me die…Do you remember how/You became who you are now/Do you remember how/It felt to breathe without/Gasping with all your might… " ~ __**Live Free or Let Me Die **__by Skillet_

Lisa Reisert's heart stopped. "Jack! Jackson!"

The gunshots echoed in her head. Jackson was dead. He had to be dead. There were too many men back there—too many guns full of bullets for him to take on. He'd died for her.

Tears welled up in her eyes. This was her fault. He'd come after her. She'd led him into a trap. He'd followed all too eagerly.

One of the remaining guards grabbed her left arm, guiding her into another room. She collapsed in the chair they pushed her at. Lisa didn't care. She was beyond that now. Jackson was gone. He wasn't coming to save her. No one was.

Sobs wracked her body. She let the tears fall and let the sorrow and anger and outrage take over. She gave in to her emotions.

_I'm so sorry…_

* * *

At the hospital, Aidan held his wife's hand. Katherine had a private room now.

Tubes and wires covered her body. One was a blood transfusion, another multiple IVs with various fluids, one was a heart monitor, and the by far the largest was a tube going down her throat. Other monitors checked on brain activity.

Katherine was in a coma thanks to the swelling in her brain. "Traumatic brain injury" was what the primary doctor told him. She might recover, might die, or might just linger in a vegetative state. It was anyone's guess at the moment.

All he could do was wait.

* * *

"Go, go, go!" James Robertson hissed into a headset.

A team of men dressed in head-to-toe black with a variety of tools and weapons fastened to a belt or the various pockets on their military-style uniforms. Three of the men carried automatic weapons. The rest carried handguns.

They split off in three groups, each led by a man with a noise-suppressor attached to their pistol. Approximately five men made up each team, with Robertson bringing up the rear.

One group headed up the south set of stairs. The second took the north side set. The third group, with Robertson near the front, approached the elevators. It took a moment to override the lockdown using a stolen key. The guard who'd previously held the key wouldn't miss it, seeing as he was dead.

None of that mattered to James Robertson. He expected casualties. He wanted casualties. He knew it was a reckless course of action, but he didn't care. The man upstairs murdered his daughter. He assassinated Charles Keefe. He put out kill orders on his employees and their friends.

Robertson was desperate to save Katherine's friends before Hamilton killed both Jackson and Lisa. If they were even still alive. Aidan hadn't been very clear on the phone.

The doors opened, revealing an empty office corridor. Cubicles and office doors filled his eyeline.

With a few quick hand signals, his men parted, each taking up various posts around the main area. Robertson himself went in search of Hamilton's office. Except there was no need.

Two battle-weary people stumbled out of an office. Both were covered in blood. One man, one woman.

He moved back to the elevator bank. "Find security. Take them out. Rippner and Reisert are on foot, both wounded. I need immediate medical assistance," he whispered into a head set.

Just like that, security came to him.

* * *

Jackson kept his head up. If he was going to die, he wasn't going to die like an animal. He eyed the men in front of him.

He waited to feel the bullets tearing at his flesh. They never came. At least not at him.

Guns went off around him, filling the empty space with sound. He watched as a small group of men —company men—faced down the guards focused on him. Reinforcements arrived from one side, finishing off the last stragglers.

"I'm really getting sick of saving your ass," a voice hissed in his ringing ears.

"Jim…"

His old friend pulled him to his feet. "Don't ask. Where's Hamilton?"

"Dead… Lisa…"

"Don't worry, I sent a team to get her. She's safe, Jack. She's safe."

He nodded, feeling his eyelids getting heavy.

"Tell her it's not her fault," Jackson muttered. "It's not her fault…"

The blackness closed in, pulling him under.

* * *

The door to the office burst open. The man guarding Lisa spun around to fire at the intruders, only to take two bullets to the chest.

Lisa stood up. "I'm unarmed!" she called. "Don't shoot!"

The man lowered his gun. "Miss Reisert? Lisa Reisert?"

"Yes?"

He smiled. "I'm Marc. I'm a friend of Kat and Aidan's. I'm here to take you home."

She relaxed. His name sounded familiar. She could remember Kat joking about a guy named Marc one day at the bank.

He unlocked her cuffs. "C'mon…"

"Jackson? Where's Jackson? Is he…?"

Marc didn't respond. "There's no time. We've gotta go."

"Not without Jack! I won't—"

"You don't have a choice."

He picked her up, tossing her over his shoulder. She screamed and kicked at him. "Put me down!"

Marc turned a corner and headed to a set of stairs. "No. My orders are to get you out of here before the police show up."

"I don't care! I need to find Jack! He's hurt—"

"There's other people looking for him. They'll find him."

Lisa noticed the hint of doubt in his voice.

_Jackson's dead, isn't he? And it's all my fault…_

* * *

Aidan looked up from Kat's bedside when the door opened.

Standing there, with a nurse at her side, was Lisa. She looked like hell and clutched an oversized black jacket around herself.

"What happened?" he asked, dropping Kat's hand. He crossed the room and helped her to an empty chair. "Where's Jackson?"

He took in her disheveled hair, the cast on her wrist, the cuts and bruises on her face, and her red-rimmed eyes. In fact, her cheeks were still wet with tears.

Lisa didn't answer. She didn't have to.

"I'm sorry, Lisa," he whispered.

The auburn haired girl nodded. She broke down again, dissolving into tears. Aidan wrapped his arms around her, holding her as she cried. He didn't talk—he just listened to her sobs.

Four doors away, in an operating room, an unidentified young man flatlined as the doctors prepared to extract a knife from his back.

His name was Jackson Rippner.

**Author's Notes:**

We'll get an update on both Jackson and Kat's conditions in the next chapter. Just remember that this is Jackson and he's almost impossible to kill. ;)

Big thanks to my beta, **cypris88**! And to all of my awesome reviewers – over 200 reviews! – you guys are the best. :)

I might not update again until next weekend, even though I'm almost done writing chapter 37. Tomorrow (Monday) is my first day back at college so this week's pretty hectic. Plus I just moved in with four younger siblings on a farm. We've got a lot of animals. I love it here, but I'm also not on my laptop as much as I could be.

Check out a new video based on "Newfound Clarity" on YouTube. It features Kat, Aidan, Lisa and Jackson. I'm gonna put the link on my profile.

Eilish – Yes, Hamilton isn't coming back. But you're right… he might still have buddies who want revenge. I think you just gave me a sequel idea…. ;) Thanks so much!


	38. Chapter 37: To Forget About You

Newfound Clarity

**Disclaimer: **Sadly, I am a poor college student and I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_.

**Chapter Thirty-seven**

"_You make it hard to breathe/It's as if I'm suffocating/And when you're next to me/I can feel your heartbeat through my skin/It makes me sad to think this could all be for nothing/I wish there was a way/A way for you to see inside me/I never felt this way/About anyone or anything/Tell me/What do I have to do to make you happy?/What do I have to do to make you understand?/What do I have to do to make you want me?/But if I can't make you want me what do I have to do/I know exactly what you're thinking/But I swear this time I will not let you down/I'm not as selfish as I used to be/That was a part of me that never made me proud…God I hope you see what losing you would do to me/All I want is one more chance so tell me…What do I have to do to make you love me?/If I can't make you want me just tell me/What do I have to do?/To forget about you…" ~__** What Do I Have To Do?**__ By Stabbing Westward _

"We've got a John Doe with multiple injuries, including a stab wound to the back. The knife is still lodged, possibly in his kidney. His pressure is jumping all over the place," an EMT explained as he wheeled the gurney through the emergency room.

Nurses went straight to work taking his stats and preparing the unconscious man for surgery.

He was wheeled down the hallway and into a waiting operating room. A surgical nurse attached a heart monitor while another administered oxygen through a tube in his nose.

As soon as the surgeon started to cut around the knife, the man's blood pressure dropped. An alarm sounded on the monitor.

The man on the table was dying. Jackson Rippner was dying.

A doctor applied the paddles to his bare chest, shocking his heart. His body jumped, but didn't respond.

The monitor continued to flatline.

"Clear!" the doctor called, putting the paddles to his chest a second time.

The tone continued.

It took a third shock to restart his heart. He didn't come alive, gasping for air, as actors occasionally did in movies. Jackson was still non-responsive.

He stayed like that for the next five hours as a team of doctors worked on repairing his damaged body. Jackson died three more times on the table.

After the last stich was tied off, he was taken to a recovery suite in the Intensive Care Unit. His room ended up being across the hall from Kat's. Not that he noticed. Jackson floated in the abyss between life and death.

* * *

When Lisa ran out of tears, she fell asleep on a cot Aidan had requested. He stayed awake, watching over his wife and friend. Darkness fell and the hospital slowed down. He didn't really notice.

A knock at the door caused him to jump.

He stepped around the cot and went to the door. He peeked out, coming face-to-face with his father-in-law and employer.

"How she is?" Kat's father asked, brushing past the younger man. He went straight to his daughter's side.

"Jim… come in…"

He took Kat's hand in his. "Well? How is she?"

"Still in a coma. The EKG is showing signs of brain activity, so there's hope. They're thinking about drilling into her head to release the pressure…"

James Robertson nodded. "I hope not. That's risky."

"I know. I'm holding off on the decision."

"And how's Lisa?"

Both men glanced at the sleeping figure. She had several hospital blankets wrapped around her body. Despite wearing a hospital gown, Lisa still wore the tattered and blood-stained coat. She refused to part with it.

"Coping," Aidan said softly. "She's been through a lot. I think she was just starting to get used to being around him…"

His boss sighed. "Jackson's not dead… well, at least not technically…"

"What do you mean?"

Robertson sat in Aidan's vacant seat. "He's been admitted as a John Doe. His wounds were beyond my abilities. With you here, I had no choice. This was the best place for him. Which is why I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell her."

"No visitors?"

"None. Plus they've got a cop stationed at his door for his protection. After what went down tonight, it's too risky to leave him alone. He would want it like this."

"How do you know? Did he tell you?" Aidan demanded.

"Not in so many words. The last thing he said was to tell Lisa it wasn't her fault. I think he knew he would die."

"Wait, he is really dead?"

James sighed again. "Not completely. He died during surgery. They brought him back, but he's still non-responsive. It's not looking good. I don't want her to see him like that."

"She's stronger than she looks," Aidan said, smiling at Lisa's sleeping figure. "Just like Katy."

* * *

His prediction was wrong.

A week passed by with Lisa almost sleepwalking. She traded the hospital gown for loose-fitting jeans and a t-shirt. Her curly hair was disheveled from sleep. Lisa refused to part with the coat, even just to get it washed. It was all she had left of Jackson.

Aidan watched her breakdown. She barely ate, didn't talk much, and slept most of the time. She stayed at the hospital with him and Kat, sleeping on a cot.

As far as Lisa knew, Jackson Rippner died on the operating table.

It had been Jim's idea to tell her that Jackson was dead.

_Lisa lay curled up on the cot near the hospital bed. She kept her arms wrapped tightly around herself. She hadn't said much since coming into the room and announcing that Jackson was dead. _

_"Lisa, I have some bad news."_

_She looked up, but didn't speak._

_"It's about Jackson. You're right. He didn't make it. He died on the operating table. I'm so sorry…"_

_She seemed to expect the news. But that didn't stop the tears. A fresh wave started, wracking her entire slender frame. She shook underneath Jackson's coat, her fingers digging into the material. _

_Aidan put his arms around her, knowing there was nothing he could say or do to ease her pain. There never was when tragedy struck. _

_"He's gone… isn't he…? He's really gone…"_

_"I'm so sorry, Lisa."_

_"I can't believe it… he can't be… he's Jack… he can't be…"_

_She dissolved into tears, her head resting on his chest. There wasn't anything sexual about her curling up against him. It was about comfort. Two lost souls finding comfort together and mourning their losses. _

* * *

Down the hall, Jackson slept most of the week as well, his body attempting to heal itself. He wasn't out of the woods yet, but he'd recovered more than the doctors had hoped.

It was Jim who kept him updated on the world outside his hospital bed.

"Leese?" he rasped after a quick greeting. He always asked about her first.

"She's sleeping. She's healing slowly."

He knew Jim wasn't telling him the entire truth. There had to be a reason why Lisa wasn't here in his room. He trusted that she was still alive—unless… no, Jim wouldn't lie. Would he? Was it possible that Lisa died? Could Jim have lied in order to give Jackson a reason to live?

Looking at his old friend, Jackson knew that Jim was ruthless enough to lie if he assumed it was in Jackson's best interests.

_She's dead… he couldn't save her. It was too late. That's why she's not here…_

* * *

One week turned into two.

Lisa sat down in a chair beside Aidan. Together they watched machines breathe for Katherine. Her long curls were gone. Her head had been shaved when the doctors drilled into her brain to release the pressure. The EKG did show some brain activity, but not as much as anyone hoped.

"When is Jackson's funeral?" she asked.

Aidan glanced over at her. "What?"

"Jackson. He died in the operating room. When are we going to bury him?"

"We're not."

Tears leaked out of her eyes. "What? Is he in some unmarked grave?"

"It's not like that, Lisa." He shifted closer, taking her hand. "Jackson's not dead."

She frowned. "What?"

"I'm not supposed to tell you…"

"Tell me what?"

"He did die on the table. Jackson died three times. They brought him back, but no one expected him to make it. Jim said we should let you believe he was dead. We didn't want to get your hopes up."

"Where is he?"

"Safe. No one's going to hurt him."

She stood up, wrapping her arms around herself. "No, you don't understand. I need to see him. I need to know if he's…if he's alive."

Aidan sighed. "Lisa, I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not? Is he hooked up to machines just like Kat? I don't mind. I just have to know. I… I love him…"

* * *

The door creaked open.

Jackson stirred slightly, fighting to open his tired eyes.

A slight figure slipped into the room quietly. The figure moved over to the side of the bed and settled into one of the chairs. They made no move to attack him. For that, he was grateful. He was too tired to fight back. At this point, he might even welcome death.

At the very least, it would reunite him with Lisa.

The chair moved closer. The figure leaned forward, coming into the light.

Auburn curls dangled in her face.

"Jack…" a female voice whispered.

Lisa. She was here.

He opened his eyes. She looked like an angel, her hair disarrayed, and his coat loose on her lithe body. She had to be an angel. There was no way she was still alive. Jim didn't want him to mourn her death.

"Jack? Jackson?" she called again. Her pale hand reached out to touch his cheek.

He jumped. It was cold, much like he expected, but it didn't go through his skin. The cool limb warmed against his overheated skin.

_Are you real? Or am I dreaming?_

"Jack? You okay?"

Her hand shook his shoulder slightly. He opened his blue eyes wide, focusing on her. She took a step back, almost as if she were a bit timid, or even afraid of him.

"Leese…"

She moved closer to him, even climbing right up in the bed next to him. Her good arm went around his stomach. He winced slightly as she jarred his broken ribs. But he wasn't going to complain. She was here, with him, touching him and trusting him. He couldn't ask for more.

Her hair had lost its luster and the fruity smell of her shampoo. She smelled like antiseptic and death.

"I thought you were dead," Lisa whispered, resting her head on his chest. Was she listening to his heartbeat? Did he even still have a heart?

"Same. Jim wouldn't tell me. I assumed the worst…"

"Aidan told me. I saw… I saw you in surgery. I watched you die on the table, Jack. You were dead. Dead, dead, dead. I couldn't… I didn't…"

He pulled her close, an arm wrapping around her back. He kissed the top of her head. "It's okay. Let it out, Leese. Let it out…"

* * *

He was alive. He was solid, and real, and breathing. Aidan was right—there wouldn't be a funeral for Jackson Rippner. Not for a long time, she hoped.

It didn't matter that they were in tiny hospital bed, curled together amongst the mess of wires. It didn't matter that she looked like crap and felt like it, too. It didn't matter that Jackson only vaguely smelled like himself. They were both alive and together.

Lisa couldn't get close enough. Now that she was back with him, it felt almost like coming home. All of the tension and stress of the past few weeks melted away as she lay beside him.

It should have bothered her that she'd cozied right up next to a killer. It should have bothered her that it was Jackson Rippner who made her heart beat faster. That it was Jackson who she craved when the nightmares hit. That it was his touch, his voice, his scent that lingered long after he was gone.

She was completely infatuated with Jackson Rippner.

_Is this what love feels like?_

* * *

Jackson relaxed, keeping Lisa's small body tucked closed to his. He tried to ignore his bodily response to her closeness. It was hard, given the confines of the bed. He just hoped he didn't scare her away. After all, she was nice and warm…

He felt his eyes close, his mind drifting off to dream about a future—a future with Lisa that existed only in his head.

* * *

It was early in the morning when Lisa was ripped from his arms.

She let out a muffled cry, startling him awake immediately. He jumped upright, his damaged ribs forgotten for the moment.

Across the room, Lisa trembled, held in the lap of a bloody, but alive, Hamilton. He kept a knife to her neck, marring the skin further with droplets of red blood. Jackson scrambled to disentangle himself from the wires confining him to the bed.

Hamilton laughed.

With a quick slash, Lisa's warm blood splattered across the room.

* * *

Jackson jolted upright, panting heavily. Lisa rolled to the edge of the narrow bed, knocked off by his thrashing.

"Jack?" she whispered, touching his hand.

Another hand shot out, grasping her good wrist. She let out a startled squeak.

He froze, his eyes focusing on her. "Leese?"

She nodded, afraid to speak.

He dropped her wrist. "Leese…" he whispered, stroking her skin. His hand drifted across her neck. His touch caused her heart to race.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing… just a bad dream…"

Lisa shifted closer, attempting to reclaim her spot beside him. But he had other plans.

His lips captured hers while his hands found her hips. He pulled her closer to him, almost astride him, as he kissed her. Lips and tongues melded together. Their bodies met, moving together in unison. Injures were forgotten; pain disregarded.

Jackson's hands skimmed her body, memorizing every curve. She couldn't help but moan. Her good hand tentatively touched his leg. His entire body shuddered.

She pressed her body closer, straddling the very man she'd once tried to kill. A man who earlier that same eventful night she'd almost wanted to—hell, she wasn't even sure what she'd wanted from Jackson Rippner. A steamy one-night stand? A relationship?

Even now, after all this time, she didn't know what she wanted from him.

Judging by the tension in his muscles, he knew exactly what he wanted.

Lisa felt those last vestiges of control and worry slip away.

His tongue touched hers, giving her a taste of what he had to offer, even if he'd just died a few weeks earlier. He didn't seem to care. She didn't either.

She let go of her fears and inhibitions. She forgot about morals and rationality. For once in her life, Lisa Reisert just let herself _feel_.

**Author's Notes:**

Hey, I promised more JxL action! Let's see, three more chapters to go, I'm planning a sequel, and if you haven't seen _Inception_ yet, get yourself to a theatre. I just saw it again for the second time, and it was even more amazing than the first time. There are just great performances all around from the cast and there's a good amount of Cillian.

The good news is that the next chapter is almost polished off. I'm at work on the second to last chapter as well. And if you need some more JxL, I just started another long one called _Five Years Gone_ where Lisa is about to be married and Jackson comes back into her life to investigate her husband-to-be.

Again, I can't say thanks enough for all the amazing reviews. You guys are great. Not to mention my awesome beta, **cypris88**!

Lily – Jackson is alive, but I'm not too sure about Kat yet. Lisa has some faith in Jack, but he was in bad shape… I'm so glad you like Kat and Aidan—they're my two favorite original characters. And they're fun to write. :)


	39. Chapter 38: Her Heart Is Breaking

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_. I just wish I did.

**Chapter Thirty-eight**

"_The fire burning in her eyes/The chaos that controlled my mind …This love has taken its toll on me…Kept playing love like it was just a game/Pretending to feel the same…And her heart is breaking in front of me/I have no choice 'cause I won't say good-bye anymore…My pressure on your hips/Sinking my fingertips/Into every inch of you/'Cause I know that's what you want me to do…_" ~ _**This Love **__by Maroon 5 _

Days turned into weeks, which turned into months.

With his father-in-law's help, Aidan transferred his comatose wife to a private medical facility. Her EKG showed minor improvements, which gave both her family and friends hope. Her body healed physically, but the tough young woman remained locked inside her mind.

* * *

Jackson and Lisa settled into a quiet, domesticated life with ease. They both needed to unwind after the insanity of the past few months. Jackson didn't have much energy after being released from the hospital. Lisa fell into the role of his caretaker, scolding him when he moved too much or overexerted himself.

They made the decision to sell their townhouses and start over in a new location. Together they purchased a modest two-story house in the country.

Despite being out of sorts, Jackson took control of their new home.

The first change they made was to add a top-of-the-line security system. In addition to the security system, which Jackson complained could still be disrupted by a professional, Lisa offered to get a dog. He ignored her suggestion.

Dogs were a problem. He didn't like them, couldn't go on the run with them, and couldn't trust them to protect him, Lisa, or even their house. He wasn't a fan of animals. He would much rather teach Lisa how to use a gun than invite a furry animal with a tendency to destroy furniture and pee into his new home.

Especially since it wasn't just his house anymore. It was _their_ house, which gave him a little thrill each time he thought about them as a couple—him and Lisa Reisert. Somewhere, someone was laughing at the irony of the captor and captive falling for each other.

They didn't mention the past much. Both of them were focused on the future. And for Lisa, their future depended on making their house a home.

She took charge of furniture and decorations. They saved some belongings from their townhouses—namely Jackson's living room suite and flat-screen tv—and Lisa's meager kitchen supplies. She painted the rooms while he reclined on the sofa, grateful for the excuse to avoid helping her.

Painting wasn't his idea of a good time. It was too messy—like blood stains. He was grateful to use his disabilities to get out of painting. He also used it to avoid doing dishes. It made Lisa roll her eyes, especially when she saw him trying to lift very light weights.

They worked around it and split up the duties of their house.

Jackson picked out the bedroom furniture. The headboard and matching footboard were made of solid, dark wood. The armoire, nightstands, and dressers all matched with silver accents.

Lisa lightened up their bedroom with strands of shear white fabric on the decorative window poles. They'd both agreed on blackout shades to keep people from glimpsing inside their room, which slipped up under the shear valances during the day.

They compromised on the bedding. Black silk sheets contrasted with the thick navy duvet, made from suede. Lisa also picked throw pillows in shades of white, black, blue, and grey to add more color to the room. He picked out gray blankets of the smoothest fabric available.

Jackson and Lisa settled into their life, spending more time together than they did apart. She came to enjoy his company.

They behaved like an old married couple at times—fighting over the remote, cooking dinner together, and watching old movies while curled up together. It was a life and a companionship that he'd never expected. He'd never thought anyone would want to settle down with him, let alone would he find someone he cared for enough to tolerate and could love.

Someone that he would willingly risk his life and his career for. Someone like Lisa.

* * *

A sharp bark woke Jackson from his mid-day slumber.

He jerked awake on the couch, fumbling to grab a gun from the top of the coffee table, and find the threat. He focused the gun on a dark shape beside his lover.

"What the hell is that?" Jackson demanded when she led the dog into the living room.

The all-black, medium-sized dog looked a little rough to him. Maybe even rabid. He didn't lower the gun.

"A dog. You do know what a dog is, right?" she countered, petting the dog's head. Its long tail thumped against the wall, happy to be petted. However, as soon as she stopped petting, the dog stiffened, growling at Jackson.

The ex-manager glared at the four-legged intruder. The dog barked.

"That's not a dog. That's a demon," he muttered.

"Hey!" Lisa sat down beside her new pet, rubbing his back. The dog flopped to the floor, rolling over so she could scratch his stomach. "Be nice!"

Rolling his eyes, Jackson tucked the gun into the waistband of his pants. He limped toward the pair. Immediately, the dog lurched to his feet and stepped in front of Lisa. He barked at Jackson, his teeth flashing.

"It's okay, Damien," she soothed, petting the dog. "That's just Jackson. He's grouchy."

The dog settled down.

_What the hell were you thinking?_

* * *

Jackson ignored the dog for the rest of the day, letting the mutt follow his lover around the house. The damn dog was infatuated with her. He couldn't exactly blame the beast. Animals always responded to Lisa's caring nature. He'd never met a single animal that resisted her touch.

He wasn't exactly an animal lover himself. Most of his pets despised him. And once he got involved in the assassination business, he couldn't exactly come home and feed a pet. He went away for weeks, sometimes months, at a time. It wasn't fair to an animal.

Hell, he couldn't even keep plants alive in his old apartment.

He shoved all thoughts of Lisa's dog out of his mind for the rest of the day.

* * *

When he slipped inside their bedroom that night, he was greeted by a low growl.

The dog was sprawled at the foot of their bed, a furry rug with an attitude. Jackson rolled his eyes. "Shoo!"

Damien barked at Jackson, almost hysterical.

He went around the bed. The dog lunged at him, his teeth closing on the manager's leg. He cursed, swatting at the mutt. The dog hung on, growling low in his throat as he chewed on Jackson.

"Damien! Let go!" Lisa called, sitting up in their bed.

The dog dropped Jackson's leg and trotted over to his mistress, tail wagging.

"It's okay… he's not going to hurt me, honey. It's just Jack…" she soothed, petting the beast.

He limped toward the bathroom, mumbling threats to the dog. He was not going to be treated like an intruder in his own home. Especially not when the damn dog was the intruder.

_Bite me again or threaten Lisa and you're dead meat... I don't care what she thinks. I won't let anyone threaten my family, least of all you._

* * *

Thirty miles away, Aidan jolted awake when the phone beside him rang. He fumbled to grab the receiver, his voice rough from lack of use. A quick glance at the clock confirmed his suspicions about the time. It was barely three in the morning.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Murphy? This is Judy down at Healing Pines."

"Hi, Judy. Is everything okay?"

He rubbed his eyes. Late night phone calls were never a good sign. Especially not from the medical center.

"Actually, it's not. Your wife's blood pressure dropped rather low a few hours ago. We ran a series of tests to check on her condition. She's not getting enough oxygen to her brain, Mr. Murphy. Her body's shutting down."

"What's that mean?"

"I'm sorry, but it would be best if you came to say your good-byes."

* * *

In the bathroom, Jackson disinfected his ankle. He'd just started to wrap it when Lisa slipped into the doorway, a silk nightgown hanging on her petite frame.

"How's the ankle?" she asked.

"Fine," he muttered.

"Are you sure? It look liked Damien had a good hold on you."

"He did."

"I didn't think he'd actually attack you, Jack. I'm sorry."

He looked over at her, her red curls framing her face. He stepped closer to her. "I know. At least I know that no one can hurt you when you're around that… thing."

Her eyes closed as he put his hands on her waist. He found her hips and pulled her closer. He could feel her hands playing with the waistband of his silk pants.

Jackson lifted her onto the bathroom vanity. She gasped at the cool marble against her skin.

Her lips found his. She made a sweet apology for the bite on his ankle. He didn't care. He wanted only one thing right now to make him forgot about that damn dog.

* * *

When the phone rang, they both lay tangled in a heap on the tile floor of the bathroom. They were too exhausted to move, Lisa's nightgown torn and his pants long gone. Her curls were wild, her cheeks bright red, and her lips swollen from his forceful kisses. They would both have bruises later.

"I'll get it," Lisa muttered, moving away from her warm lover.

"Mmmph," was all he said.

She pulled the phone down from the nightstand with a clatter. "Hello?"

"Lisa, it's Aidan."

"Aidan, what's wrong?" she asked her friend. He didn't usually call at night. In fact, he rarely called at all. They spoke at the medical center at least once a week when Lisa came to visit.

"Kat's dying. They want to take her off life support."

Lisa sat up straight. "But she's… she's still alive…"

"She's brain-dead. She's gone."

* * *

Jackson pulled himself over to Lisa. He kissed the back of her neck as she hung up the phone.

"How is she?" he asked.

"Katherine's dead," she whispered. "They're turning the machines off tomorrow."

**Author's Notes:**

Hey, I gave you JxL! So don't break out the torches!

The whole dog bit is based on two dogs I know. One is physically the size and color of Damien with a bit of the guard dog personality. The one is a yappy Jack Russell who sleeps in bed with his mommy. He has a certain spot and he hates when anyone – child or husband – tries to sleep in his spot with his mommy. He growls at them. It's hilarious.

I wanted to give a little bit of light domestic fluff before we got into the more dramatic ending. Plus I could resist giving Jackson a rival.

The next chapter will be a sad one. Thanks for all the reviews! We're almost to the end.

Lily - I have something cooked up for Kat, don't worry. ;)

Eilish – Everyone's begging for a sequel. Plus we need to see a happy JxL, don't we? Wooh, I'm glad it wasn't sleazy. I was worried. Kat's fate will be decided in the next two chapters for good. Inception is amazing anyways, but with that dreamy cast? Wooo… they can break into my dreams anytime! :)


	40. Chapter 39: Not My Time to Go

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye._

**Chapter Thirty-nine**

"_I think I'll find another way/There's so much more to know/I guess I'll die another day/It's not my time to go/For every sin, I'll have to pay/I've come to work, I've come to play/I think I'll find another way/It's not my time to go…I guess I'll die another day/I guess/Die another day..." ~ __**Die Another Day**__ by Madonna_

When Lisa arrived at Katherine's private room, both Jim Robertson and Aidan were present. The machines surrounding her showed a decrease in her health. The jagged line monitoring her heart rate was almost non-existent.

Jackson took her hand in his, his thumb stroking the scarred skin. Her wrist had healed within eight weeks of breaking it. However, the bone tore through her skin, mangling it a bit.

The vibrant figure who'd been her best friend looked frail underneath the hospital-esque lighting. Her skin had a grey pallor and an unhealthy, scaly look. Katherine's left hand healed well. The doctors ended up sewing over the stump of her ring finger. It was too late to even attempt to re-attach the missing appendage when she finally received medical attention.

"Thanks for coming," Aidan said softly. He didn't move from his seat beside his wife. Her wedding ring dangled on a black cord around his neck.

"Of course. I just… I can't believe this is happening," Lisa admitted, sitting in one of the remaining chairs in the room.

"I thought for sure she'd recover," her father said. "She's always been a fighter. I guess this time it was too much for her body to take."

Jackson squeezed her hand. "Sometimes, the kindest thing you can do is let go."

Aidan cleared his throat. "Her will stated that she… she never wanted this. If her brain… if it was damaged to the point where she wouldn't function, she wanted to be taken off life-support. I signed a DNR order this morning."

"If that's what Kat wanted, that's what you should do," Lisa said. "And you're not alone. You've got us. Kat wouldn't want you to carry this on your own."

"She's right," Jackson admitted. "We're all going to help you. We'll get through this together. Just like we did before. Besides, there's still a chance… she might… she could surprise us."

* * *

Lisa could hear his voice cracking a bit. He would never admit his true feeling aloud, but she knew he cared for Katherine like a brother cared for his little sister. The two of them sure bickered like siblings.

In the year she'd known Katherine, the Murphys had become her family. Kat was more than her best friend—she was the sister Lisa never had. The crazy, kooky, fun-loving sister.

Now she would be gone, just like that. It just wasn't fair.

Jackson's words from long ago echoed in her mind. _"Sometimes bad things happen to good people…"_

If anyone was a good person, it was Katherine. She deserved to live. She had so much life in her.

_Too bad we can't just trade…_

Except then Jackson would be alone. She cared for him—might even love him—and she had no right to decide for him their fate. That should be a joint decision.

But none of that mattered at the moment. It was already too late.

* * *

One-by-one, the medical staff turned off the machines keeping his wife alive. Aidan watched, helpless, as the heart monitor faltered. Kat was dying.

He held her hand, studying the veins under her nearly-translucent skin. So thin and frail.

"I love you, baby," he whispered, listening to the heart monitor slow.

A tone sounded. Behind him, he heard Lisa stifle a gasp.

Flatline. It was a tone he knew all too well. A tone he never expected to hear regarding his wife. Her heart had stopped.

Aidan bowed his head, still holding onto her hand. He didn't want to let go. He wanted this to be a nightmare. He didn't want to face the rest of his life without her. He loved her too much.

* * *

A nurse called out the time of death and shut off the machines. The room went quiet as the medical personal left the small group alone to say their final good-byes before sending her body on to the morgue.

"I miss you so much," Lisa said, taking Kat's other hand. "It's not fair."

She stayed there for a few moments, talking softly to her dead friend. By the end, she was sobbing.

* * *

Jackson approached on Aidan's side. He leaned over the bed and kissed her forehead. "Rest now, Lynn. You've earned it. Just stay out of trouble…"

He didn't look at Lisa. He couldn't. Kat was family to him—the closet thing he had to family anymore. The rest of his family was dead. All he had in the way of family was his old friend Jim and Jim's daughter. Now Jim's daughter, Katherine Lynn, was dead.

Except for Lisa. She'd become his family, but he couldn't expect her to stay with him forever.

He could hear her sobbing beside him. The sound; the slight sniffling, it all broke his heart.

Jackson couldn't take it anymore. He fled the room.

* * *

A few hours later, after a miserably silent car ride, the trio arrived at Jackson and Lisa's home. Aidan was in no condition to be left alone and his father-in-law was too busy dealing with his own grief. Putting the two men together wasn't an option.

Lisa went in first, going straight to Damien. He stopped barking the moment he saw his mistress. She petted him, causing his long tail to thump against the floor.

He led Aidan into the living room to raid the liquor cabinet, all the while trying to ignore the dog. That didn't keep Damien from a low warning growl.

Aidan, who was already slightly sloshed from a whiskey flask—supplied by none other than Jim—finally noticed the black beast. "You got a dog?"

"She did. I hate that damn dog."

"I think it hates you too."

Damien barked, clearly suspicious of the two men. Or maybe the mutt could smell the liquor. Jackson wasn't sure and he certainly didn't care.

"Ignore it. I do."

The two men went into the living room, Aidan leaning on the older man. Together, they limped in tandem—Jackson from unhealed injures and Aidan swaying from intoxication.

"Pick your poison," he rasped, opening the liquor cabinet. Rows and rows of glass bottles faced the pair. They varied in size, shape, and color. Most of the brands were expensive. All of the liquor had been hand-picked by Jackson himself.

He grabbed a bottle of red wine. Lisa seldom joined him in having cocktails, but she couldn't refuse a decent bottle of wine. It was one of their weekend rituals—a movie playing on the flat screen, a glass of wine in her hand, a sniffer of brandy in his, and sooner or later, sex on the couch.

"Umm, the hard stuff," the young man said.

"Vodka? More whiskey? Something else?"

"I'll start with the vodka."

Jackson sighed as he handed over the bottle. They were in for a long, drunken night. He wasn't about to let his friend drink alone, even if the young kid was Irish.

He often felt like a lightweight when he spent time around the Murphys. When stressed or with friends, Katherine could keep up with the boys drink-for-drink or shot-by-shot. While he wasn't quite the drinker that his wife was, Aidan could come pretty damn close thanks to his Irish blood.

Lisa, the demure lady that she was, nursed the same drink most of the night. Jackson varied depending on how hungover he wanted to be in the morning.

Tonight, he wanted to be numb. He wanted to chase the pain and loss away. He wanted to chase away his own mixed feelings about Kat's death. Part of him still felt responsible—almost as if he'd pulled the trigger on her himself.

Part of him mourned his almost-sister. At the same time, her death reminded Jackson that life was short and fleeting. If he wanted to be with Lisa, he would have to step up. Or else, he should leave before he broke her heart again.

He reached for a bottle in the back of the cabinet. The dark amber liquid swished as he lifted the glass decanter out. He poured himself a tall glass as Aidan removed the cap from the vodka.

The bottle clinked against his glass. The two men bowed their heads slightly, in deference to Katherine's memory, and drank.

_No regrets. Not anymore. Not ever again. Life's too short._

* * *

Later that same evening, the autopsy tech, dressed in his scrubs and protective gear, unzipped a black body bag in order to check the toe-tag. He had to match the identifying information against his intake sheet before he could start processing the body.

The tag contained a case number and a printed name—Robertson-Murphy, Katherine. She was in her late 20s and beautiful, despite her short cropped locks and the bruises from needles.

There were no obvious signs of violence or trauma. He couldn't see any broken limbs. In fact, at first glance, he couldn't see a reason for her to be lying on his stainless steel table, her pale skin ice cold.

Was it internal bleeding? Cancer? What took this woman's life?

He started with the basic measurements before hosing her body down. The water wasn't frozen, but it wasn't exactly warm either. He grimaced when it ran over his own skin accidently.

By the time he reached her feet with the hose, the woman on his table gasped and sat upright.

She was still alive.

**Author's Notes:**

I told you I had something up my sleeve…. Hehehhee.

If I get my liquor information wrong, sorry, but it's because I'm not a drinker. Jackson strikes me as the type to have a well-stocked cabinet and Katherine is a drinker. Her father, Jim, is an alcoholic and has been for many years. He gets worse when he's stressed and upset.

Why does Aidan allow her to drink, knowing her father's problems? Well, Kat isn't addicted…at least not completely. He tries to limit her intake when she's stressed, but she's more of a social drinker than anything. Jackson THINKS Aidan drinks along, but he's a con artist. He's good at playing drunk when he's stone-cold sober.

Anywho, the next chapter should be more upbeat. I'm also putting up a new poll regarding everyone's future in the sequel. Please vote!


	41. Chapter 40: Whisper Softly

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_.

**Chapter Forty**

"_I was dying for you…Your hand touches my cheek as you whisper softly/Don't forget to breathe/Our love will be redeemed/And when you take my hand/You'll know exactly where I am… " ~ __**Don't Forget to Breathe **__by Bitter:Sweet_

While her lover and friend proceeded to get stone-cold drunk, Lisa Reisert stayed in the kitchen, furiously scrubbing at dishes in the sink. There were more than enough dishes to warrant running the dishwasher. Not that she cared.

The hot water and rough wire brush in her hand turned her skin a raw, bright red. She didn't notice or care as she plunged her hands repeatedly into the boiling water, the scour pad tearing into her flesh as easily as it tore through grime.

Time ticked by, leaving Lisa alone with her thoughts and her pain until the phone rang.

* * *

The autopsy tech bundled the former corpse in a few ratty old blankets he located around the morgue. She didn't seem to have any energy aside from her initial reaction. He suspected that was more of reflex than an actual reaction.

She continued to lie on the autopsy table with an oxygen mask on her pale face while he scrambled to gather her records and the phone.

According to the paperwork, she had been sent from a long-term medical facility, not a hospital, which accounted for the variety of bruises—life-support machinery. But how could a medical center declare a living person dead?

"This is going to hurt," he said, inserting a needle into a vein on her arm. He drew a copious amount of blood, hoping that even though she couldn't speak, her blood would speak for her.

* * *

"I always thought I'd die first, you know?" Aidan muttered, a near empty bottle in his hand.

"Yeah, same here. In our line of work, people don't tend to live long. Or have families."

"We almost did."

Jackson nodded. "Yeah, and Katy… she would have been a good mother."

His friend took another long swallow, draining the bottle. "I guess I should just give up. Kat was my life—my only love—"

"Don't think like that. She'd want you…"

Aidan slammed the bottle down on the table, breaking the glass bottle. "You don't know _anything_!" he snarled. "You have the perfect life! You have a house and the woman you love! You have _everything_!"

"That's what you think? You think this is perfect?"

"Yes!"

Jackson snorted. "You have no idea what my life is like. Do you know how long it took me to even realize I was capable of feelings? How hard I fought to survive? Do you even know what it feels like to be hated by the woman you love? Do you?"

"Kat and I—"

"No, you don't. You fought. You called each other names. You didn't try to kill each other. She could never hate you. As long as I've known her, she only ever loved you," Jackson said, his voice breaking.

* * *

"Hello?" Lisa said warily. The caller id signified that it was the county morgue. They'd given their home number in case Aidan needed to be contacted.

"Is Aidan Murphy around? This is Kent from the morgue…"

"He is. May I ask what this is about?"

"It's his wife… Katherine. There's been a mistake."

"What kind of mistake?" Horrible thoughts raced through Lisa's head. Did they have the wrong body? Had she been cremated? Was Katherine murdered?

"I would rather speak to Mr. Murphy personally—"

"He's, umm, indisposed at moment. Katherine is—was my best friend. Anything you need to tell him, you can tell me."

"I don't know how to say this…"

"What happened?" she asked, trying to remain calm.

"There's a mistake. Katherine Murphy isn't dead. She's alive."

* * *

Plastic shattered across the tile floor as his lover dropped the receiver. Jackson watched the phone scatter into dozens of pieces, Lisa standing stock-still in the midst of it.

He set his drink aside, hurrying into the kitchen.

"Leese?"

She looked up, her eyes near tears.

"Leese, you okay?"

At her feet, Damien growled. Jackson ignored the mutt.

"Kat… she's…"

"I know, love, I know." Jackson pulled her into his arms.

"She's alive…she's still alive."

* * *

"She's back here," Kent, the autopsy tech, said as he ushered the trio into the morgue. They wound through a maze of corridors, Aidan leaning heavily on Jackson. Even Lisa staggered a bit, having gulped down several glasses of wine at Jackson's urging to help her cope with the shock.

But they weren't prepared to actually see their dead friend alive.

Katherine lay on a metal examination table wrapped in blankets and attached to various bits of machinery. Hardly any of it was hospital grade, however they did have an oxygen mask on her face and a blood pressure cuff on. The blankets were moth-eaten and musty, but the combination of material and heating pads kept her shivers to a minimum. A thermometer was in her mouth when the door opened.

Kat mumbled, but the tech shot her a dirty look.

"Katy," Aidan called, squinting at his wife. "Are you real?"

Lisa touched his arm. "She's real, Aidan. It's Kat. She's alive. She's really alive."

The tech turned to the small crowd. "She's in severe shock. The hospital will need to run several tests to determine what effects this near-death had. She was shot, correct?"

Aidan nodded, wobbling on his feet. Lisa guided him to a chair, leaving Jackson to take control of the situation.

"Yes. She's been in a coma since receiving her injuries. Her head was beaten in. She was left in a ditch with severe blood loss and a slow heartbeat. She never regained consciousness, but showed brain activity. When it ceased, the doctors ran tests. They decided she was brain-dead and took her off life support," Jackson explained quietly to the tech, his eyes glancing over at Kat.

Her blue eyes rolled around, looking toward him. She wasn't talking or moving much.

"Well, she was rather cold when she arrived. Usually people suffering from hypothermia are the only ones who suddenly wake up. Plus, with modern technology, it's not easy to declare someone dead," the tech said.

He reached over and checked the thermometer. "Her temperature is still low. It's almost like she's in severe shock still."

"A…Aidan…" she whispered.

Her husband stumbled to her side. His hands shook—whether it was due to nerves or alcohol, Jackson couldn't tell—as he cupped her cheek. "Katy, Katy baby…"

Tears trickled down her cheek, but she didn't move. She didn't try to touch him or sit up.

"Are you… you okay?"

"Now… fine… now…"

His hazel eyes watered. "Katy, God, I love you so much…"

Jackson motioned for the autopsy technician to follow him into the hall. Through the door, he watched the Murphys reunite. "Can she move?"

"She sat up, but she hasn't moved since. It's possible that her muscles are atrophied from being bedridden. Or she might have brain or spinal cord damage. She can't seem to breathe on her own. It's very ragged."

He nodded. "Why did they think she was dead?"

* * *

"I have no idea. Can you think of anyone who would want her dead?"

"Lisa… Jack…" Kat called softly, her voice weak and rough.

Lisa went to her side, standing opposite Aidan. "I'm here. What's wrong?"

"You… Jack…"

"Yes, I'm with Jack. We've moved in together."

"Good… he… love…"

"What?"

"Loves… you… Jack…"

"Jackson loves me? Is that what you're saying?" Lisa asked, stunned. How would Katherine know? She'd been in a coma while they got together. Before that, they fought like cats and dogs. How could she know? Did Jackson care for her back then? Did he tell Kat?

"Yes…"

Lisa took a step back. "When did he tell you?"

"Months ago…"

She glanced toward the hallway, where Jackson stood with the tech. _Love? Was it possible?_

Could Jackson Rippner really love her?

"Leese? You okay? You look rather pale," he said, Jackson's strong arms circling around her waist. "You cold?"

She nodded. _Why didn't I see it before? But do I love him? Can I love him after what he's done?_

Full of questions, Lisa stood with her lover, while her best friends clutched each other's hands. Despite the odds, despite turning off the machines, Katherine lived. If her friend could survive death, then maybe, just maybe, there was a future with Jackson Rippner.

If not, she could always sic Damien on him.

**Author's Notes:**

Boy was that an annoying chapter. We'll find out the real reason behind Kat's "death" in the epilogue as well as getting a peek at what's to come in the sequel. The epilogue is edited as well and I will try and put it up as well as possibly a prologue for the sequel on the 30th - a little Halloween/Pre-NaNo treat. Many, many, MANY thanks to my awesome beta, **cypris88**!

I will respond to all the reviews (annoyomous in the epilogue, everyone else by review reply/PM) by Friday. Enjoy!


	42. Epilogue: In Your Mind

**Newfound Clarity**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to _Red Eye_.

**Epilogue**

"_Do you live?/Do you die?/Do you bleed?/For the fantasy/In your mind/Through your eyes/Do you see?/It's the fantasy…It could be just like heaven/I am a machine/No longer living/Just a shell of what I dream…" ~ __**The Fantasy**__ by 30 Seconds to Mars_

Two counties away, a woman stared at a photograph pinned to a dartboard. The photograph showed a group of four people, each of them covered in soot and grime while a house burned in the background. There were two men and two women.

One man was a former co-worker. The other was a long-lost lover. As for the women… one was competition and the other was bait.

One of the women had a large red X drawn across her face.

Thanks to an accident not of her doing, one woman was dead. She just needed the other one to control her co-worker. Then she would have the love of her life back. It'd been close to seven years since he disappeared without warning, leaving her alone in their bed.

She believed him dead for years, until a little birdie told he that not only was he alive, Aidan Murphy got married. To another woman!

Not that any of that mattered anymore. Katherine was dead. Aidan hadn't even noticed her presence at the long-term care unit. He didn't pay attention to the nurses. He had no idea that she existed as he clung to the hand of his bride.

_Why her? Why not me? You said we'd be together forever…_

Faking brain death wasn't too difficult. All she had to do was reroute the scans to old footage from another patient, who actually was brain dead. Once the decision to terminate life support came down, she rejoiced.

Just before removing the machines, she injected the other woman's IV with a special cocktail designed to kill her. Well, that was after adding isopropanol gas to her oxygen mixture for a week to deepen the coma. She couldn't have Katherine waking up.

In her evenings, she mixed the lethal combination of tetraodontoxin, a drug meant to paralyze, potassium bromate, which lowered a patient's blood pressure, phenobarbital, to stop her lungs and lower her blood pressure, and a large dose of opium to wash it all down.

She wasn't worried about the drugs being detected at an autopsy. Everyone around the medical center knew Katherine was on her way out. No one could—or should—survive her injuries. She was actually doing the woman a favor.

Not to mention doing her lover a bigger favor by removing their only obstacle—his marriage.

With a smile, she flicked off the lights and sauntered into her bedroom. Within a few weeks, she would be back in his arms. The best part was that his own friend—and her old buddy—would push him back toward her. Rippner didn't know it yet… but he wouldn't refuse. Not with his girlfriend's life on the line.

She crawled under the sheets, sighing happily. Her head filled with visions of Aidan as she drifted off to sleep, blissfully unaware that her target was still alive and breathing.

**Author's Notes:**

How's that for a twist? We'll learn more about Aidan's mysterious ex in the sequel! Let's just say that she's really good at killing, has a past with both Aidan and Jackson, and isn't above ruining lives to get what she wants—which is Aidan.

What does this have to do with Jackson and Lisa? Her reappearance is going to cause all sorts of problems for the happy couple as Jackson goes back to work and Lisa adjusts to life with a killer. Jackson has no idea about the grand scheme, which will only drive them further apart.

Thanks for reading and I hope to see you all at the sequel!

Shoutouts:

To my reviewers, you all ROCK! Special thanks to **Pirate Gyrl**, **Dave-The-Laugh's-NewHotness**, and **patriot16** for reviewing from the beginning! Big thanks to my frequent reviewers, **MythStar Black Dragon**, **BlueSkyMornings**, **I Am the Batman Dag Nab It**, **azab**, **Jesscah**, **XxDaAshersxX**, **lily**, **Lisa Reisert**, and **Eridanus1123**. Every single review (over 250!) has meant a lot to me. Sorry I can't list everyone's name….but you're all special in my eyes!

Anonymous Reviews:

Lily – Thanks! I hope you enjoy the sequel as well! :)

BlueSkyMornings – Whew, long review! In the movie, he definitely doesn't seem as cold as a killer could be—he's rather human and does seem to have compassion for her. But you're right, she did seem scared and angry—EXCEPT at the very end when he's lying on the floor, there's a flicker of sorrow on her face, not pride.

Love Neal! I totally wasn't thinking about him when I created Aidan, but I can really see the similarities in character… Jackson is a bit afraid of commitment with Lisa. He doesn't want to push her and scare her off.

Oooooh, that would be a good twist to throw at them in the sequel. Who doesn't want a little JxL baby? Seriously…Thanks so much! :)


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